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A Romance of Fortress Monroe 


AND 

THE HYGEIA. 

M 

SECOND EDITION. 


/ 


J. W. Randolph & English, 

RICHMOND, VA. 

■ 1884. 




i 



486555 







CHAPTER I. 


vi 

a 


It was the middle of March, and the Hygeia 
was crowded with guests. In the second, third, 
and even fourth stories of the mammoth hotel 
“Saratogas” lined the halls, and through the 
open transoms might be heard the sounds of 
human voices, ranging from the deep bass of the 
father of the family to the shrill treble of the 
infant in long clothes, indicating the occupancy 
of the endless suites of rooms. 

Call-boys, telegraph messengers, porters, wait- 
ers, French maids, nurses and children followed 
each other along the corridors with bewildering 
rapidity, while outside the house, on the gal- 
leries, the plank-walk — misnamed, ‘ ‘ by cour- 
tesy,” the esplanade ! — and the beach, men and 
women of all ages, sizes and conditions sat or 
walked or stretched themselves in the sunshine, 
inhaling the health-giving breeze which swept 
in from the sea. 

The sea itself sparkled and shone in the sun- 
light, and the great ships at anchor rocked gently 
on the waves, while smaller craft with white sails 
spread went skimming over the water in every 
direction. Parties of young people were con- 
stantly loosening pleasure boats from their 


4 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


moorings and setting forth on a sail, their ring- 
ing laughter and varied interjections keeping 
time to the rise and fall of the skiffs on the 
water. 

One must travel far ere he finds a pleasanter 
sight than Old Point Comfort presents on a 
bright morning in early spring. With its gal- 
leries enclosed in glass, its pavilion and pleasure 
wharves and gay esplanade, the Hygeia looks 
from a distance like a crystal palace risen out of 
the sea. 

It does not require unusual imagination to 
fancy it some “stately pleasure dome,” which 
has reared its glittering walls upon the surface 
of the water at Neptune’s command, whither the 
god betakes himself in boastful or jocose mood 
to look out upon the world above him. Naiads 
and dolphins would cheerfully attend him in 
those crystal barriers, whence they too might 
see the sky and the clouds, whose shadows so 
often darken their aqueous haunts and cause 
them to shiver in the added cold. But apart 
from “fitful fancies,” the visitor approaching 
Old Point from the water-side finds much to 
captivate his eyes and interest him. Immedi- 
ately facing him is the Hygeia Hotel backed by 
the frowning battlements of the Fortress; to the 
right the low sandy beach stretches a great way, 
the Government lighthouse rising from it like 
an index finger, while to the left are the wharves, 
gardens, buildings and churches of “Soldiers’ 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


5 


Home” and Hampton village. The hotel is 
near the water’s edge, and the Fortress is but a 
few feet further away. 

Inside the ramparts the grounds are extensive 
and beautiful. There are substantial dwellings, 
occupied by officers of the garrison, some sur- 
rounded by flower gardens, and all pleasing to 
the eye in their bravery of galleries, awnings, 
and clambering vines; a pretty church, long 
lines of barracks, numberless casemates, and 
everywhere the live oaks of the South casting 
their dense shadows upon the grass and offering 
shelter beneath their never-fading leaves. * * * 

The Hygeia has two distinct seasons, marked 
by a difference equally distinct in the character 
of its guests. 

In the summer months it is patronized by the 
solid South. In the winter and early spring its 
habituks come from the North and West. 

It will thus be seen that an inquisitive foreigner 
or one born upon the high seas, who wishes to 
to study the manners of our people, may choose 
his own season for visiting the Point and ob- 
serving the characteristics of the residents of 
different sections. 

In the late winter, in February especially — 
and why did not Numa Pompilius add some- 
thing better to the calendar than this same Feb- 
ruary? — above all, in March, when the mad 
winds career across the plains, and the great 
Northwest has to button its ulster close over 


6 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


its breast, so to speak, then do the wealthy citi- 
zens of the high latitudes travel southward, 
stopping in transitu, or for the entire season, at 
the hospitable Hygeia. 

These crowds remind one of the Assy- 
rian Cohorts, “gleaming in purple and gold.” 
Not only by the richness and variety of their 
dress do they suggest great wealth, but by the 
air of careless ease, and the luxurious wants 
which distinguish them. They are all, in fact — 
or in prospect — millionaires, and their very 
presence intimates bonanzas. 

I said that “Saratogas” lined the halls of 
the hotel — they usually remain there, for the 
daughters of Fashion soon discover that dress- 
ing, as a fine art, has not extended to the Vir- 
ginia seashore, and a stout cloth suit is more 
comfortable for walks on the beach than are 
silks and velvets. A cloth dress and coat, 
and a picturesque hat meet the demands of 
the most fastidious, to which may be added a 
gay-colored sunshade and a shawl to spread 
upon the sand when the fair possessor chooses 
to take a sun-bath there. Shawls of every size 
and color are seen serving in this capacity, 
from the sombre but magnificent camel’s hair 
to the modest paisley and gorgeous broch6, and 
while they indicate the taste and wealth of their 
owners, they also stamp — so it has been insinu- 
ated — their social standing likewise. 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


7 


It was the twentieth of March, and a day of 
unusual loveliness, even at the Point. The 
breeze was soft as a zephyr’s wing, and the 
sun shown warm enough to call into use the 
ladies’ parasols. On the soft blue of the sky 
great masses of dazzling vapor floated, paus- 
ing now and then to reshape themselves into 
new and fantastic forms. Everybody was out 
of doors — or appeared to be. Along the galle- 
ries and walkway, ladies and gentlemen strolled 
in couples or groups, or sat with their papers 
and books, reading and chatting. The array of 
red umbrellas was like an army with banners; 
while the sandy beach was well-nigh hidden 
under the gay shawls which the lavish daugh- 
ters of wealth had spread upon it. Scamper- 
ing along the beach and down at the water’s 
edge, the children romped and played, digging 
holes in the sands and filling their little buckets 
with water, or dragging sticks through the foam 
as it crawled lazily back over the wet sands to 
the sea. 

^|c 

A young lady came out from the pavilion, 
walked slowly along the gallery until she found 
a vacant chair, and drawing it close to the 
wall, sat down. As she appeared in sight the 
line of red parasols tilted to a sharper angle, a 
double line of eyes emptied their batteries upon 
her, and whispered conjectures passed from 
mouth to mouth. 


8 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


* ‘ There she is again ! ’ ^ “I wonder who she 
is?” “What an air she has!” “Entirely 
alone I ’ ’ were but a few of the comhients ex- 
changed, as the stranger passed on, apparently 
unconscious of everybody and everything. 

After she had settled herself comfortably in 
her chair, she opened her book, leisurely turned 
the pages until she found the one she was in 
search of, and then raised her umbrella. 

“By Jupiter 1 she’s a stunner I” exclaimed a 
young man who had been silently watching the 
beautiful face, now hidden behind the para- 
chute. 

‘ ‘ A trifle thin, ’ ’ commented his companion, 
with the instinct of an art critic; “but she 
walks well.” 

“ ‘ Walks well I ’ ‘ She moves a goddess and 

she looks a queen 1 ’ ” returned the first speaker 
with enthusiasm. “I tell you what it is, Gard- 
ner, I have made up my mind to seek that 
girl’s acquaintance; it’s a crying shame that 
she doesn’ t know one of us ! ” 

He twirled his cane as he said it with a ges- 
ture of impatience. 

His friend smiled slightly. “She is not 
grieving over her want, so far as I can observe. 
I never saw a person less afflicted by a sense of 
isolation. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I wonder who she is, and where she came 
from, and ” 

“And what she has — eh? That’s the way 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


9 


New Yorkers finish such sentences. I dare say 
Nil will answer the last clause; but it’s easy to 
see that she is a Southern girl — a Virginian 
most likely. But why do you not ask Miss 
Dives to introduce you! Women always find 
out each other.” 

“Such a pity we can’t go in bathing!” ejacu- 
lated the first speaker, paying no attention to 
his friend’s last suggestion. 

That gentleman curled his lip the least bit. 

‘ ‘ I doubt if that would help you — the cold, 
calm gaze of those eyes would keep even you 
at a distance. ’ ’ 

“Not if I had her in the water with me,” 
said the enthusiast, confidently; and he drew a 
picture in his mind of the beautiful stranger, in 
a becoming bathing-dress, tripped by a wave 
into his rescuing arms. 

His companion, who divined his thoughts, 
muttered in a low key; “She would not accept 
your assistance if she were drowning!” The 
situation was evidently less pleasing to his fancy 
than to the other’s. 

After a minute’s pause he spoke again in his 
usual manner, half serious, half bantering: 

‘ ‘ My dear Barclay, the contingency you 
dream of is too remote. Why do you not 
adopt my suggestion, and ask your fiang'e to 
make you acquainted with the lady ? ’ ’ 

Mr. Barclay, who had reason to believe that 
his Jiang'e would cut her right hand off sooner 


lo “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

than do anything of the sort, replied with some 
asperity that Miss Dives was not likely to meet 
the strange girl; she was awfully particular in 
such matters. 

‘ ‘ She ought to be, ’ ’ assented the other gen- 
tleman, with emphasis. 

“There are so many parvenues trying to 
force their way into society — “ continued Mr. 
Barclay. 

“And so many snobs already in it,” added 
his friend. 

“That really one cannot be too cautious.” 

‘ ‘ Do you think that the beautiful inconmie is 
a parvenu?” questioned Mr. Gardner, after he 
had smoked his cigar silently for the space of 
half a minute. 

Mr. Barclay laughed. 

‘ ‘ Certainly not, if she be, as you say, a Vir- 
ginian — they all belong to ‘ first families. ’ ’ ’ 

“True,” murmured Mr. Gardner, but he 
did not laugh at the joke; he was thinking just 
then of Miss Dives, and of her horror of making 
acquaintances among people she knew nothing 
about. He thought it rather overstrained, since 
her father had made his money brewing beer, 
and she herself, rumor declared, had served 
many a mug of it to his patrons, with her own 
white hands. 

But that was long ago now, et hcec olim 
meminisse non juvabit, ’ ’ 

“You New Yorkers carry the question of so- 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. ii 

cial equality to absurd lengths,” he said, after 
a while, uttering his thoughts aloud, for Mr. 
Barclay was evidently waiting upon him to re- 
sume the conversation. 

“You go further even than we do in Boston, 
and I think you throw the English quite into the 
shade, with all their stand-offishness. To my 
mind, it is the surest evidence of our own in- 
herent plebianism to be suspecting it in every 
one we meet. If we are sure of our position 
and social rights, we can afford to condescend 
to men of low estate. And it strikes me that 
the less we have to do with questions of ancestry 
in this country, the better — it is the self-made 
man, whose father may have been nobody, and 
pretty generally was, that mounts the ladder to 
its topmost round — the man you look down 
upon to-day, may to-morrow be elected Presi- 
dent, and become, by courtesy at least, the ‘ first 
gentleman in the land ; ’ thanks to our political 
institutions — the bottom rail often gets on top, 
and if you don’t hanker after political prefer- 
ment, only make money enough, and you se- 
cure any position you may select. ‘ Put money 
in thy purse.’ That is the lever which moves 
the social world.” 

This was a long speech for Hugh Gardner 
to make, and his friend Barclay listened with 
profound attention. At the close of it he did 
not offer a remonstrance or an objection, but 
puffed his cigar silently. Hugh Gardner relit 


12 


“No. 40“— A Romance. 


his own cigar and lapsed into silence — he knew 
that he had used strong language, but it did 
not matter, since being himself one of the 
codfish aristocracy, and talking to a man who 
was a Knickerbocker, he felt at liberty to air 
his opinions on the subject of equality with as 
much freedom as he liked. 

The Knickerbocker winced a trifle, neverthe- 
less, being reminded of the fact that he had 
bartered his freedom for pelf. He came of a 
family distinguished for the elegant use they 
made of money rather than for the knack of ac- 
quiring it, and he had “made persuasion do 
the work of force, ’ ’ in laying up for himself a 
fortune acquired by another’s labor, and not 
his own. Chance had thrown him into the 
company of Miss Dives — one of the richest 
girls in New York, and a brief but assiduous 
courtship had secured him her hand and im- 
mense dowry. 

The day for their marriage was already fixed. 

The young gentleman had felt a qualm or 
two at the outset, because it must be confessed 
that there were features in the proposed alli- 
ance calculated to intimidate the boldest for- 
tune-hunter, but luckily for him the brewer 
himself, who constituted the worst of them, 
suddenly and unexpectedly departed this life, 
leaving his daughter sole heir to his property, 
and under the circumstances the Knickerbocker 
thought it but proper to urge his suit. He 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


13 


would not push Providence too far — it wasn’t 
to be supposed that the entire Dives’ connec- 
tion would die merely to relieve the embarrass- 
ment of an aristocratic suitor, and as for the 
young lady who was to become Mrs. Barclay, 
she soon made it apparent that she meant to 
cut all her relatives and former friends, and 
prove herself worthy to associate with the most 
exclusive of her fiangb' s “set.’’ * * * * 

While the gentlemen smoked their cigars in 
silence, the girl who had been the subject of 
their talk threw her umbrella back, and forget- 
ful of her book gazed steadily at the sea. 

Meanwhile, Miss Dives and a lady friend were 
sauntering up the gallery. 

As they neared the gentlemen, they stopped. 

Mr. Barclay tossed aside his cigar, and ad- 
vanced to them, followed by Hugh Gardner. 

‘ ‘ Do sit down, ’ ’ they said, pointing to the 
chairs they had vacated. But Miss Dives de- 
clared it was much too warm, and the glare 
was so intense it hurt her eyes. 

“Some people do not seem to mind it,” said 
her fiange^ and his eyes sought the girl near by. 
Miss Dives followed the glance. 

“ Pride is never too hot nor too cold,” she 
said, with an imperceptible shrug, “and if a 
woman desires to be stared at, she will put up 
with any discomfort.” 

“Do you know her?” Hugh Gardner in- 
quired with unusual interest. ‘ ‘ Because I am 


14 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


anxious to make her acquaintance, and will 
ask you to present me. ’ ’ 

“She?” “Her?” exclaimed the two young 
ladies in a breath, according to their several 
uses of English grammar. 

The gentleman from Boston smiled. 

“Yes; I believe women always find each 
other out, sooner or later, and are so amiable 
towards each other that they don’t permit a 
stranger to remain unknown a week at a place 
like this.” 

Miss Dives glanced sharply at the speaker — 
There was a ring in his tones she did not ap- 
prove. 

“Really,” she said, “I cannot count myself 
among the amiable members of my sex, for 
I never seek acquaintances, and am therefore 
compelled to disappoint you now. Perhaps 
some one of the gentlemen may do you the 
favor, but none of the ladies have met that 
girl.” 

“Ah, poor thing!” cried Hugh Gardner, 
with mock sadness, “‘alone, unfriended, mel- 
ancholy, slow!’ ” 

‘ ‘ Slow ? ’ ’ echoed Miss Dives — then she and 
her lady friend laughed satirically. “Slow! 
well, perhaps so ! ” 

There was no mistaking the innuendo con- 
veyed in these words. 

The Bostonian’s short upper-lip curled be- 
hind his moustache, and the Knickerbocker 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 15 

flushed painfully. If there was one thing he 
disliked more than all others, it was an in- 
nuendo ; in comparison with it an open insult 
sounded agreeable ; but to hear a woman breath- 
ing insinuations against another woman was an 
offence he could not condone. He turned his 
head away as if a breath of nauseous air smote 
his nostrils. As he did so a suppressed ex- 
clamation from the ladies made him look round, 
and at the same instant he heard Hugh Gardner 
say, with chilling impressiveness, “Accept my 
thanks for your suggestion. Miss Dives ; a gen- 
tleman, I see, will present me to the fair stran- 
ger. General Carson appears to be a friend of 
hers, and he will, doubtless, accord me the 
honor of an introduction;” and lifting his hat 
in his courtliest manner, he bade them good- 
day. 


CHAPTER II. 


The fact that a young lady, unknown and' 
apparently unaccompanied, was a guest at the: 
Hygeia, was not in itself so surprising ; but 
when it was seen that the young lady was 
beautiful, and indifferent to the admiration she 
elicited, curiosity began to be excited over her, 
and Rumor began to wag her hundred heads. 

“Who can she be?” “Why is she here 
alone?” were questions which the women asked 
each other and the men asked themselves 
every time the young stranger appeared among 
them. 

At length Mrs. Driscoll, an enterprising mar- 
ried woman, determined to solve the problem. 
She went to the office and interviewed the 
clerk. 

The clerk could not locate the person she de- 
scribed. 

“Tall, slender, fair, with brown hair and 
grey eyes?” he repeated, trying to recall the 
individual. 

Mrs. Driscoll watched him with suspicion. 
Did he want to evade her ? 

“Come, sir; you surely remember the girl, 
for she is by far the handsomest one here, ’ ’ she 
said, sharply. 


‘No. 40” — A Romance. 


17 


“When did she arrive?” questioned the 
clerk, opening the register and running his pen 
along the column of names. 

“Several days ago, I think; a week per- 
haps.” 

The clerk stopped his pen. 

“March the twelfth — thirteenth — fourteenth. 
Yes — no ; this must be the one — ‘ Miss Brown,’ ” 
he read aloud. 

“Miss Brown,” echoed the questioner, who 
was waiting impatiently to hear. “That is too 
indefinite ; where is she from?” 

‘ ‘ From nowhere, ’ ’ responded the gentle- 
man behind the desk, with the suspicion of a 
smile on his lips. 

“What do you mean, sir?” She thought 
him a presuming, impertinent fellow. 

He pushed the book forward and pointed to 
the name. 

‘ ‘ See, madame, ’ ’ he said, with dignity ; 
‘ ‘ there is no mention of her home given here — 
only the name Miss Browni*' 

“Just what I thought!” exclaimed the 
searcher after truth ; and she turned away, after 
thanking the clerk for his attention. 

That worthy put the book back in its proper 
place. 

“I’m glad I couldn’t help her,” he said to 
himself. “She is after some mischief. I’ll be 
bound ; and if she finds that girl she’ll pounce 
on her like a duck on a June-bug.” 


i8 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

Then he dismissed the matter. It would re- 
quire an Argus to keep an eye on all the men 
and women who put up at the Hygeia during 
the season ; and the clerk had little time and 
less inclination to be looking after guests to 
identify them. If they paid their bills and did 
not grumble at him, was all he cared about ; be- 
yond this he felt no interest in them. Perhaps 
had he seen the face which bent over the page 
when Miss Brown registered her name there, it 
might have been different; but the lady was 
closely veiled, and he did not choose to stare at 
her, for he was a gentleman au bout des angles. 

The day following, the clerk, happening to be 
in one of the upper halls, encountered a young 
lady whose face was unfamiliar to him, and he 
instantly recalled the interview. 

“Slender, tall, with brown hair and grey 
eyes,” he repeated, as the stranger swept out 
of sight. 

Just then an elderly negress, one of the floor 
servants, came along, broom in hand. 

‘ ‘ Can you tell me the name of the young lady 
who passed just now, Chloe?” he asked. 

“Ain’t she a beauty!” exclaimed the old 
woman, irrelevantly, stopping short. 

“ She is very good-looking indeed. Do you 
know her 1” 

“Laws, now. Mass Bayly, you ax me de 
chile’s name when you kin see it every day in 
de book down-st’ars.” 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


19 


“Perhaps I can,” returned the clerk impa- 
tiently, “but how can I tell which name belongs 
to her? There are hundreds in the book.” 

“Dat’sso!” assented Chloe with emphasis, 
“but,” she added, “you’ll look, an’ you’ll 
look before you finds another Janet Brown.” 

“Aha! ” cried the clerk, “ so I was right after 
all!” Then he smiled pleasantly upon Chloe. 
“You seem to know the lady well,” he said 
insinuatingly. 

Chloe chuckled. “Well now, dat is good! 
Why, I nussed de chile when she was a baby ! ’ ’ 

“Indeed!” 

“Times is changed, monstrous changed,” 
resumed the old woman in a mournful tone, as 
she leant heavily upon her broom and gazed 
dreamily ahead of her: “De quality’s down 
and de dregs is riz to de top!” It is impossi- 
ble to express the sorrow and contempt which 
mingled in these words from Chloe’ s lips. She 
shook her head and repeated them with greater 
emphasis. But the clerk had no time to listen 
to dark sayings. 

“Where does Miss Brown reside?” he in- 
quired. 

“She don’t reside nowhar; leastways, not as 
she usened to. Everything is gone an’ altered 
an’ ruinated 

“Why, how is that, Chloe?” questioned the 
gentleman ; this time in a gentler tone, for there 
was a sound as of tears in the old woman’s voice. 


20 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 

‘ ‘ Ole Marster couldn’ stan’ it no longer, ’ ’ 
she explained, ‘ ‘ he kep’ up as long as he could, 
but de sperrit was gone an’ de flesh couldn’ 
fight it out by itself. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ He is dead, then ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, Mass Bayly, he’s been dead some 
years now. You see, dey was rich, de Browns, 
rich as cream. Ole masser owned a big planta- 
tion and no end of niggers. Why, bless your 
heart, dar was a nigger for ebery thing! Ole 
Miss didn’t do nothing but buy stuffs and have 
’em cut out and sewed for de hands and de gals. 
And as for de chillun, dey didn’t do nuffln i^ 
dey didn’ t choose but lie down and git up whei 
dey felt ’sposed to. Dat ar chile as jist passed 
by never put on her own shoes and stockings. 
Chloe done it for her. Ah, them was times as 
was times, them were!” And the old black 
face glistened with pride over the reminiscence 
of the former glory. 

The clerk looked and listened astonished. 
He had been born and reared in a community 
of red-hot Abolitionists, and had imbibed a 
horror of slavery along with his mother’ s milk. 
He began to see dimly another side of the pic- 
ture, and to recognize features in the ‘ ‘ institu- 
tion” which his friends at home were utterly 
blind to. It would require a new generation 
to do away with the ingrained allegiance which 
the negroes owed their former masters, and 
several generations more to destroy the feel- 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 21 

ing of dependence and affection which exists 
among them towards those who have formerly- 
held dominion over them. 

“So you put on Miss Janet’s shoes and 
stockings ? ’ ’ he resumed, feeling as if he were 
taking a liberty with the lady’s name, but 
eager to hear more about her. 

‘ ‘ I did when she was little, ’ ’ Chloe replied, 
“but dat was in de ole times — she can help 
herself now — she don’t ax favors of nobody 
It was almost pitiful to see the pride the old 
woman felt in her young mistress. After a 
moment she continued — 

“Ole Marster used to say to me: ‘Chloe,’ 
says he, ‘what’s the use o’ my livin’? money 
gone, niggers all gone, wife gone, boys gone. ’ ’ ’ 
“All de use is dat ar chile, says I. An’ dat 
was all, sure enough. Ole Miss, she died as 
de war closed. It broke her heart to see de 
last boy come home on a litter — four likely 
boys, sir, killed in battle, and not a one left 
behind. Janet warn’t nothing but a ‘tot’ then, 
and old Miss doated on her boys.’’ 

‘ ‘ Did the old gentleman continue to live on 
the plantation after the war?’’ 

“Yes, sir; he lived dar to de last, but it 
didn’t seem like de same place — not that we 
did’t Stan’ by him, sir, all but two, and dey 
always was good-for-nothing niggers anyway.’’ 
Chloe evidently felt ashamed of their defection. 
“But de craps failed, and dar warn’t no mo- 


22 “No. 40” — A Romance. 

ney in de bank to pay us, and Ole Marster 
took sick — and — dat was de end.” 

“So Miss Janet does not live there any 
more ? ” 

“No, wese all scattered about; here, dar, 
and everywhar.” And Chloe shook herself 
as if to recover from the depression which 
was threatening her. 

After a brief silence, the clerk asked if Miss 
Brown was at the Hygeia alone — Chloe jerked 
up her broom with an energy which savored 
strongly of a desire to sweep the offender out 
of her path. 

“What you take her for?” she exclaimed 
indignantly. “My young Missis aint accus- 
tomed to folks runnin’ round loose by ther- 
selves — leastways to public hotels!” 

“Of course — of course” — assented the clerk 
hastily, feeling rebuked, but not diverted from 
his purpose — “I supposed she was here with 
friends, but I wished to know, because a lady 
asked me yesterday about Miss Brown, and I 
could not tell anything about her.” 

Chloe sniffed the air in her quick resentment. 
“Dar’s some folks always apryin’ into what 
don’t consarn ’em,” she remarked disdainfully; 
to which the clerk felt himself constrained to 
assent inwardly. 

‘ ‘ Perhaps it is because of her beauty that 
your young lady attracts attention — they wish 
to make her acquaintance,” he said in a concili- 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 23 

ating tone, but Chloe shook her head incredu- 
lously. 

‘ ‘ She aint suffering for them — and they 
needn’t bother themselves about her — ’cause 
she’s got her friend and me to look after her.’’ 

“Well, if there is anything that I can do for 
Miss Brown or her friend, Chloe, you must 
not fail to call upon me’’ — and the old woman 
made a grateful bow, as she took her broom 
in hand to resume her work. 

The clerk went back to the office, hoping to 
meet the beautiful stranger on the way, but she 
was nowhere to be seen. 

Who her ‘ ‘ friend ’ ’ might be was as deep a 
mystery to him as ever; but chaperon or no 
chaperon, it was very evident to him that Miss 
Brown had a protector at hand in Chloe who 
would be equal to any emergency. 

Janet’s chaperon and friend was Mrs. John 
Russell, of New York, but her presence at Old 
Point was not known or even suspected, since 
she never appeared in public. 

Mrs. Russell was in mourning for her hus- 
band, and had come to Old Point because her 
physician urged a change of scene as necessary 
to her health. She had nursed her husband 
through a long and tedious illness, and at his 
death a reaction set in, which threatened to de- 
stroy her own life. After some weeks she re- 
luctantly consented to leave home; urged to the 


24 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


step by a desire to escape the calls of her in- 
numerable friends. 

A widow with a jointure of a million is an 
object of interest, even in New York, and when, 
as in Mrs. Russell’s case, the widow is young 
and childless, public sympathy is not slow to 
manifest itself. 

Mrs. Russell grieved for her husband, but 
she disliked the “obsequious sorrow,’’ which 
her dear five hundred friends thrust upon her. 

She told her physician that she had made up 
her mind to go somewhere, and he at once 
suggested Old Point to her. 

Having decided to spend some weeks at the 
Hygeia, the widow wrote to engage rooms, and 
then asked herself whom she should invite to 
be her companion. Not one of her relatives 
or New York friends seemed desirable at that 
hour, and she finally settled upon Janet Brown. 
She had met Janet the previous year when 
visiting in Virginia, and had taken a great fancy 
to her. The girl’s beauty and grace charmed 
her eyes and her simplicity won her heart. She 
had kept up a desultory correspondence with 
her, and now wrote to ask this favor of her. 

‘ ‘ I would not impose this task upon you, 
dear,” her letter ran, “if I did not believe 
in the sincere affection you profess for me. I 
want you, I need you, and if you will come I 
promise you to do what I can to make your 
generous sacrifice light. 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 25 

“You will, I fear, be compelled to go into 
the crowd alone, for I cannot bring myself to 
face all those people down-stairs; but let us not 
anticipate evil. I have secured two pleasant 
bed-rooms and a sitting-room where our meals 
will be served, and I will have an abundance of 
papers, magazines and books to help you pass 
the time. All you will have to do when you 
arrive is to register, and I will see that your 
trunk is brought up to your room. No. — , 
second story, new building. Mr. P — s under- 
stands my wish to remain incognito^ for I hear 
there are many New Yorkers there. And now 
all I need to bring arrangements to a happy 
conclusion is your consent.” 

Janet accepted the invitation, and joined Mrs. 
Russell after she had been at the Hygeia two 
days. 

Taking her meals thus in private, and pass- 
ing the greater portion of each day with her 
chaperon, every time the girl appeared on the 
gallery she was like an apparition that came 
and went, none could tell whence or whither. 

In the evenings when the parlors were ablaze 
with light, and the pavilion merry with dancing, 
this interesting creature was conspicuously ab- 
sent. ’ ’ 

It was a trying ordeal to have to live day 
after day in the midst of strangers without one 
friend to speak to, but Janet did not appear to 
mind it. 


26 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


She was not burdened with self-conscious- 
ness; she cared but little for strangers, and she 
lacked that inquisitiveness which distinguishes 
many* of her sex. So she walked “among 
them, and yet aloof,” calm and collected. 

Old Point was new to her, but not strange; 
for she had heard her father talk of the place 
and the many seasons he had spent there be- 
fore the war — and she sometimes fancied she 
could hear his voice speaking to her when the 
waves broke at her feet. Somehow the sea 
was connected in her mind with him, and for 
that reason she loved it. So, day after day, 
she sat in the midst of the crowd alone, and 
yet not alone — and only once she framed a 
commentary upon her condition. A group 
of girls were romping in the sand, and mak- 
ing the welkin ring with merry laughter. 

“If they were Southerners, I would have 
known them all by this time,” said Janet to 
herself, “and perhaps be a partner in the 
game. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER III. 


I said Janet had made no friends at Old 
Point, but I was mistaken. 

Every day at noon, or earlier, Mrs. Russell 
sent her young friend out to enjoy the sunshine 
and air, and Janet took advantage of these 
hours of liberty to wander up the beach to the 
pile of rocks which strewed the sands beyond 
the light-house. 

There she would throw herself down to read, 
or to watch the waves shimmering and dim- 
pling under the breeze, peaceful and happy, 
and forgetful of the world. But thither, as if 
drawn by some occult influence, the children 
began to follow her — not approaching too close, 
but near enough to hear her voice should she 
choose to speak to them. 

Janet saw the children out of the corner of 
her eye, but she took no outward notice of 
them, partly because she wanted to follow her 
own thoughts undisturbed, and partly because 
she did not wish to incur responsibilty on their 
behalf She suspected the selfism which lay 
beneath the attraction, and it amused her to 
see how early the human creature develops a 
propensity for using the cat’s paw. 

It was tacitly understood among the children 


28 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


that the instant they caught sight of the girl 
moving up the beach, they would shoulder 
their spades and buckets and take up the line 
of march in the same direction. 

After a few days one of them proposed to 
go and make the young lady’s acquaintance, 
and several little girls objected. “We don’t 
know who she is,’’ said one; “my mamma 
says nobody does.’’ 

“Who cares if nobody don’t!’’ cried a 
sturdy lad, the eldest of the party, and as if 
in defiance of public opinion, he instantly ad- 
vanced towards the rock. 

“We couldn’t come here a step if she 
didn’t’’ he explained to the crowd, who were 
shyly following in his wake, “for mother told 
me I was not to come on the beach unless I 
saw a grown up person there, and you know 
very well that you all wouldn’t come if I 
didn’t.’’ 

Janet’s attention was attracted to a shell- 
fish which a wave had just cast at her feet, but 
she saw the troop advancing, so she said to 
them quite naturally: “Isn’t it an ugly thing?’’ 
and the instant after a dozen heads bent eagerly 
over the mollusk, and the ice was broken. 
Henceforth the girl was to have friends, ad- 
mirers and champions at the Hygeia. 

It was several days later: Janet was seated 
on the rocks, and the children playing about 
her, when Bob Westbrook, the lad who had 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 29 

first sought her acquaintance, ran up and threw 
himself alongside of her. 

“Have you been to the Fortress?” he in- 
quired. 

“No — she had not been there as yet.” 

“It is beautiful inside the ramparts a day 
like this,” he resumed in a suggestive voice. 

“Was it?” Janet questioned lazily. She 
was watching a ship moving in from the Roads, 
and thinking of the old saying, “When my 
ship comes home.” 

“There is a pleasant way to get to the Fort- 
ress,” pursued the boy, “it is but a step 
from here.” 

“Indeed !” 

“I wish you would come with me!” and he 
sprang up impulsively. But she was deaf to 
his entreaty. He held out his hand to help 
her to rise. 

“Will you come. Miss Janet?” 

“Where to, sir?” 

“To the Fortress — over the ramparts — the 
way is as plain as the nose on your face ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Thank you 1 ’ ’ she said with a laugh, turn- 
ing towards him, but she did not move from 
her position. 

“Oh, dear! I wish you would come?” Bob 
persisted. 

“What shall we do with the children?” 

“Send them back to the hotel — they are 
only girls, and girls are always in the way, — 


30 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


that is,” — he added quickly, fearful that he 
had been rude— “until they grow up.” 

Janet gave him her hand that he might help 
her from the rocks. 

“They never would be grown up, if they 
were not little once,” she argued, and Bob did 
not offer an objection — he was too pleased to 
gain her consent to his project. 

“See here!” he called to the group of chil- 
dren; “shoulder your spades and away with 
you! you can’t stay here any longer.” 

Janet could not help laughing outright at 
the peremptory order — but the children were in 
arms — “We aint going to do it — you haven’t 
any business to tell us what to do,” and the 
speaker threw' herself into a defiant attitude. 

“ But Miss Janet and I are going somewhere 
and you can’t come,” explained Bob, with an 
air of superiority. 

The child looked at Janet, who now inter- 
posed. 

“I am afraid to leave you here alone,” she 
said kindly, “so run back to the hotel like 
good children.” 

The compliment was not disregarded. The 
battalion shouldered their spades and scam- 
pered down the beach. When they disap- 
peared Janet turned to Bob. 

“Come now, you are to be my guide in this 
unexplored region.” 

In a few moments they had gained the ram- 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


31 


part. On the top they stopped to look about 
them — for the view was worth dwelling upon — 
t'l en they walked a little distance around the 
top, and down an incline to the grounds be- 
yond. They strolled in any direction their 
fancy dictated, and finally lingered before the 
casemates. Bob filled his new position with his 
customary confidence. At length he stopped 
short, in front of one of the casemates, and 
said : “This is it, this is ‘ No. 40.’ ” 

“No. 40?“ echoed Janet, following him into 
the niche, where a great cannon stood, its 
mouth set seaward in a port-hole cut in the 
outer wall. 

‘ ‘ This is the spot where the officers make 
love to their girls, ’ ’ Bob explained. 

‘ ‘ And have you brought me here for that 
purpose, sir?” 

“Not exactly,” he answered, blushing very 
red, ‘ ‘ but I heard somebody say that this gun 
can tell a heap when it chooses to ; and they do 
say” — his voice sank to a whisper — “that it 
tells what has gone on in here — if one is young 
enough to listen.” 

‘ ‘ Dear, dear ; what a singular gun ! And 
you mean to test it. Bob ? ’ ’ 

“Well — I thought that you and I together 
might worm a thing or two out of it. ’ ’ 

Janet threw her arms around the cannon and 
leant her head upon it. Scarcely had she done 
so, when a gentleman paused in front of the 


32 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


casemate, took in the tableau at a glance, and 
bowing involuntarily, as if in apology for his 
intrusion, passed out of sight. 

Janet was at first too startled to move, but 
she quickly recovered herself, remembering 
that soldiers and visitors were continually walk- 
ing about the Fortress. 

At the end of another minute she unclasped 
her arms and rubbed her hands together, for 
the cannon had chilled them. 

“You should have tried it, Bob,” she said, 
half sadly, “for my ears are too old, I think, 
to hear the secrets. ’ ’ 

After a little they went out upon the rampart 
again, and Janet spread her shawl upon the 
grass to rest awhile. But she started suddenly 
in alarm — “Oh, Bob, I have dropped my book ! 
I had it wrapped in the shawl. We must go 
back for it.” 

“I’ll go, you must have left it in the case- 
mate. Wait here, it won’t take me two min- 
utes,” and before she could object the boy was 
off. 

Janet resettled herself, and leaning upon her 
elbows, with her face resting upon her palms, 
she gazed afar at the ship which had just cast 
anchor in the Roads. Presently she heard a 
step — 

“ Did you find it. Bob?” she called out. 

“ I beg pardon ! ” uttered a deep voice at her 
side. 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


33 


She sprang up. It was not Bob who stood 
there, but a stranger, and in his hand was her 
book. 

‘ ‘ Pardon me for following you, ’ ’ he said, 
with a deep bow, ‘ ‘ but I picked this up in the 
casemate a moment after you left it, and in- 
ferred that it belonged to you. ’ ’ 

Janet held out her hand for the book. 

“Thank you very much,” she said, “books 
are so easily lost, and this one I value very 
highly.” 

She supposed he would make another bow 
and wish her good day, but he did not move. 

Despite the embarrassment of the situation 
she felt like laughing. There she stood, planted 
firmly in the middle of her gay shawl, her hat 
off, the wind loosening her hair, which threat- 
ened every moment to tumble down, and di- 
rectly facing her this elderly strange man, not 
uttering a word, but keeping his eyes riveted 
upon the copy of Browning’s poems which she 
held. 

“ I sent Bob to look for it/’ she said after a 
while, shifting her book from one hand to the 
other: “he is long getting back.” 

The stranger lifted his eyes to hers — there 
was a smile on his lips — “Bob is a diligent 
searcher and deserves to be rewarded.” 

Janet did not fancy his repeating the boy’s 
name after her in that significant manner; she 


34 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


stooped to pick up her shawl, but Bob appeared 
at that instant flushed and breathless. 

“I have recovered ^le lost property,” she 
cried to him, holding up the book, “this gentle- 
man was kind enough to bring it to me.” 

Bob glanced at the new comer with surprise, 
mixed with indignation. “Now he will surely 
take his departure,” thought Janet, but instead 
of it, to her astonishment, he pointed to the 
book and inquired if it belonged to her. 

She assured him that it did — he did not seem 
to notice the hauteur with which she answ^ered 
him. 

“One of the best friends I ever had was 
named Janet Brown,” said the stranger, “and 
singularly enough it was at Old Point I met her. ” 

Janet became interested — “This is a coinci- 
dence; pray was the lady from the South?” 

“She was a Virginian; her home was ‘ White- 
hall’ on the James.” 

“Then it was my own mother, sir!” cried 
Janet, and held out her hand with frank cor- 
diality. 

He held it in his for a long instant, while he 
gazed steadily into her eyes — “ Can it be possi- 
ble that you are her child ? lam truly pleased 
to find you here ! My name is Carson — perhaps 
you have heard them speak of me ? ’ ’ 

“ General Carson?” Janet drew back a step. 

‘ ‘ General Carson — I fear you have heard un- 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 35 

pleasant things of me?” And his tone was 
anxious. 

She came forward again, a bright light in 
her eyes. “Yes, I have heard of you — evil as 
well as good — but you say my mother was 
your friend.” 

“The truest a man ever had.” 

Had she heard of him? Yes; as a little child 
she had heard wonderful tales of an officer in the 
Federal army whose daring raids kept the Con- 
federates always on the alert, and whose per- 
sonal bravery recalled the deeds of Bayard. 
Like Bayard, too, in that his magnanimity 
equalled his bravery, and his generous treat- 
ment of those he found defenceless was the 
shining example he set his men. Yes, she had 
heard of him, in these latter years, as one of 
the liberal-minded champions of the. South, 
who, having fought her sons on bloody fields, 
now desired to win the vanquished back to their 
old allegiance. He was indeed one of whom 
much was spoken, for and against, and she was 
heartily glad to meet him and find in him her 
mother’s friend. 

As for Bob, who was now formally presented 
to the distinguished soldier, his heart throbbed 
with pride and pleasure. He had heard his 
sister say, that very morning, that General 
Carson was expected at Old Point, and all 
the girls were waiting for a chance to capture 
him. 


36 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

Friendly relations having established them- 
selves, Janet sat down again, making a place 
for each of her companions on the shawl. 

In their talk they touched upon many things. 
At last the General inquired if she visited the 
Fortress every day. 

“Oh, no,” she answered,— “ this is, my 
second visit. I came to-day to oblige this 
young gentleman.” 

“Are you fond of artillery. Bob?” 

“Well, no,” — said Bob deliberately. “I 
like big guns — in a way.” 

Janet laughed. “We all like she 

said mischievously, turning to the General. 

‘‘ ‘ In a way , ’ ” he added. 

“Bob likes ‘No. 40,’” said Janet teasingly, 
whereat the boy turned cruelly red. 

“No. 40?” The General’s bronzed cheek 
seemed to pale. “It was in that casemate I 
found your book — were you reading there ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, no! I was trying to wile some of its 
secrets from the cannon — they say it talks 
now and then.” 

The shadow of a smile flitted over the 
General’s face.” 

“You shouldn’t encourage the gun in its 
propensity to tell tales— some day it may tell 
on you.” 

“That is not probable.” 

At this juncture. Bob, who had been lying 
at full length in the sun, with his face up, rose 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 37 

leisurely, gave himself a little shake and put on 
his hat. 

“ If you will excuse me, Miss Janet, I will go 
back to the hotel, ’ ’ he said. ‘ ‘ Mother may be 
anxious about me.” 

What he intended was to leave her alone with 
the General, who would then be her escort. 

‘ ‘ W'hat a stunner it will be to sister and her 
chums to see her coming up the gallery with 
General Carson ! ’ ’ 

The boy’s jealousy was swallowed up in his 
exultation over this prospect : he felt proud too 
of his own championship of the girl when she 
was alone and unfriended. 

“ How jolly it will be to have her walk off 
with the man they are all waiting to hook ! ’ ’ 
he thought to himself 

Thoughts of a like nature flitted through 
Janet’s brain, but they did not include the 
jealousy of imaginary rivals. “It would be 
pleasant to have him stay with me longer, and 
tell me of the old times and mamma, but I must 
not monopolize him — monopolize him ? — there 
will be no danger of that — he has so many 
friends at the Hygeia that I need not expect 
more than a passing bow from him.” In spite 
of herself she sighed at the thought, and a 
faint regret stole over her as she looked at 
him. He was such an attractive man in ap- 
pearance and manner, and his voice was the 
fullest, richest, most “soul-compelling” she 


38 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


had ever he^rd. And she must yield him to 
the gay crowd gathered at this very hour on 
the hotel gallery. 

For the first time it struck her that that 
crowd was supercilious, consequential, preten- 
tious, snobbish, everything but agreeable. 

Decidedly it was time for her to part from 
General Carson ! 

“You are quite right, Bob,” she said, rising 
slowly. ‘ ‘ It must be getting on to dinner-time, 
and I had forgotten all about it. ’ ’ 

General Carson rose too, and took up the 
shawl ; he was on the point of offering to ac- 
company them, but changed his mind. He 
made a low bow to Bob as he handed him the 
shawl. 

“You have been very generous to me,” he 
said impressively, ‘ ‘ and I must not trespass 
longer upon your courtesy.” Then he turned 
to Janet : 

“This is but the beginning of our acquaint- 
ance, I trust ; may I not see you frequently 
during my stay at the Point ? ” 

“It will give me great pleasure,” she said, 
her cheek flushing slightly. 

“ Then I will see you to-night in the parlor.” 
He offered her his hand. 

“ I do not go into the parlors,” she said. 

“ But to-night ? ” he questioned, holding her 
hand longer than was absolutely necessary. 

“If possible — maybe'' she promised, laugh- 


“No. 40”— A Romance. 39 

ingly; then slipping her hand from his, and 
bidding him good day, she ran down the steps 
to the beach, followed by the trusty Bob. 

General Carson watched them moving across 
the sand, and the breeze brought back their 
merry laughter. His eye brightened as he lis- 
tened, and the stern lines about his mouth 
softened. 

“How beautiful she is! how beautiful and 
bright!” he ejaculated. Then he turned and 
walked slowly along the ramparts. 


CHAPTER IV. 


General Carson strolled leisurely up the es- 
planade, stopping now and then to chat with 
old friends, and to exchange greetings with 
new ones. Each group that he paused at did 
their best to detain him, and tempting chairs 
were pushed towards him by fair hands; but to 
no avail. 

“He’s a likely fellow!” commented an el- 
derly New Yorker, to his wife, as the General 
passed. 

“Grey hair becomes him,” she returned, 
following the retreating form with her eyes. 
‘ ‘ I wonder he does not marry again. I fancy 
that he would not have to sue in vain.” 

“No; the girls of the present day rather 
affect old fellows — especially if they have a 
snug fortune, and Carson has that. ’ ’ 

“But he is not an old man,” objected the 
lady, who had been making calculations in her 
mind, “and he is a don parti; something rare 
in the army.” 

“Let me see,” said her husband, “Carson 
must have been twenty-three at the breaking 
out of the war — twenty-three and twenty will 
make him forty-three.” 

Meanwhile the General pursued his solitary 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 41 

stroll, pausing here and there long enough to 
exchange greetings, but declining the seats 
which were offered, as well as the invitations 
bright eyes and rosy lips extended to him. 
His commanding figure and soldierly bearing 
made him conspicuous even here, where mili- 
tary men were daily occurrences; and those 
guests who were strangers to him strove to get 
a good look at him as he passed. 

Suddenly he stopped in his walk, moved 
with a quick step to one side, and exclaimed in 
a tone of relief: 

“I have found you at last! ” 

The individual addressed raised her eyes 
from her book, shifted her umbrella, and held 
out her hand with a charming smile. ‘ ‘ Good 
morning,” she said, and though the greeting 
was simple enough, there was a thrill in it 
which the General did not fail to detect. He 
looked about for a chair, but could see none. 

‘ ‘ May I steal you from your book ? ” he in- 
quired. 

She closed the volume. 

“I can’t see a chair, and I fancy these good 
people would stare were I to seat myself beside 
you on the flooring — what shall I do?” He 
waited for her to suggest a way out of the diffi- 
culty. 

Why shouldn’t she do it? she asked herself. 
The hesitation of yesterday was banished from 
her mind, and along with it her resolution not 


42 


“No. 40”— A Romance. 


to be seen with him. Had he not escaped from 
the New Yorkers, and was there not a proba- 
bility after all that he would become her friend 
even as he had been her mother’s? He hadn’t 
forgotten her; he had been seeking her his 
words declared, and now his eyes as well as his 
voice expressed the satisfaction he felt at meet- 
ing her again. 

To have him come to her here in this open 
way, in the face of all those people, sent a little 
thrill of proud pleasure through her which she 
had unconsciously betrayed in her greeting. 
Janet Brown was beginning to summarize the 
Hygeia’s guests as ‘ ‘ those people. ’ ’ She felt out 
of humor with them to-day for the first time. 
For the first time, too, she suffered a sense of 
isolation, an unpleasant suggestion of social os- 
tracism, or, what was even worse than that, a 
total ignoring of her rights to equality. So 
strong was this feeling that it made her dread to 
go upon the esplanade, where she must sit apart 
from everybody; but an inexplicable impulse 
overcame her, and almost before she knew what 
she was doing she found herself there, her book 
in her hand. She kept her eyes fixed upon the 
page, but she did not read one line. The letters 
swam before her, and something like a mist 
rose between her and everything. Tears? She 
would not acknowledge them! Yet something 
very like tears rose under her drooping lids as 
she thought of the loneliness to which she was 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


43 


restricted, the embarrassment of her situation 
and the unfavorable comments it must provoke. 
A flash of anger at the thought of her chape- 
ron’s selfishness in bringing her to a hotel 
crowded with guests and leaving her to make 
her own way unaided among them was suc- 
ceeded by contrition, because of her chaperon’s 
sorrow and loss. Then came a scornful resolve 
to ignore everything and everybody. Why 
should she consider these strangers who were 
nothing to her, and whom she might never meet 
again? Her eyes brightened again, and she 
wondered where Bob was, and why he was not 
playing with the children on the beach. Rest- 
less and unsatisfied — she knew not why — she re- 
solved to go to her seat among the rocks and 
try to forget the world and its uses, when some- 
body spoke to her, and looking up she recog- 
nized her new acquaintance. 

“Will you come?’’ he asked her, and it was 
not a question, but an entreaty. She rose and 
pushed back her chair. 

“Whither?’’ she questioned. 

‘ ‘ Oh, anywhere away from this crowded gal- 
lery,” he answered, lowering his voice. 

‘ ‘ If you do not mind plowing through the 
sand, we can go to that pile of rocks ; I go there 
every day ;’ ’ she pointed up the beach. 

‘ ‘ By all means let us go there, ’ ’ he assented ; 
“the sand has no terrors for me.” At that 
moment he felt that he would have braved the 


44 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

sand of the Sahara to meet a welcome like this 
she had just given him. 

So they walked down the esplanade together, 
to the astonishment of everybody, and the in- 
dignation of not a few. 

“Well! — that beats all!” ejaculated an 
elderly matron, who was taking a sun-bath 
wrapped up in costly cashmeres. “ If there 
isn’ t that creature walking off with the General 
before our eyes! The poor fellow hasn’t an 
idea who she is, I dare say, and was too civil to 
repulse her.” 

Comments similar to this were made by 
others, but a faint suspicion began to steal upon 
the more prudent-minded of the ladies that it 
would be as well not to voice their chagrin ; 
and some of the good-natured women, as well 
as all the men, showed their pleasure at the 
prestige which was given to the beautiful in- 
connue. 

“You did not keep your promise,” said 
the General, in a tone of gentle rebuke. “I 
searched for you everywhere last evening, but 
you were not to be found. Where did you hide 
yourself?’ ’ 

“I sat with Mrs. Russell in her room,” Janet 
explained. 

“And who is Mrs. Russell?” 

‘ ‘ She is my chaperon — tho’ her chaperonage 
extends only to the limits of our rooms, for she 
never appears with me in public.” 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


45 


In spite of herself, the words betrayed her 
vexation. The General noticed it and asked 
the cause of the lady’s retiracy. 

‘ ‘ She is in mourning for her husband, whom 
she loved very dearly; and of course she does 
not feel like mingling in the gay crowds,’’ ex- 
plained Janet, fearful of having done her chap- 
eron injustice, and anxious to remedy it. “She 
is as sweet to me as she can be, and indeed I 
would not be here but for her. She wanted a 
companion, and asked me to come and stay 
with her.’’ 

“You were willing to come?’’ 

‘ ‘ I was delighted to do so. I had never vis- 
ited Old Point, and this was an opportunity I 
could not resist — besides I hoped to be of some 
use to Mrs. Russell.’’ 

“There is no doubt of your having fulfilled 
that hope, if you spend every evening with 
her.” 

“Thanks! You pay pretty compliments, and 
I like them, whether I deserve them or not.” 

“No,” said the General, “No, I am not 
given to paying compliments. I meant what I 
said. And I was exercising a spirit of liberal- 
ity in saying it, because you will be more ready 
than ever to keep up your present course, and 
I will be a sufferer thereby. ’ ’ 

Janet did not retort — the color in her cheek 
deepened perceptibly, but the General was not 
looking at her. 


46 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


“Mrs. Russell is a selfish person, I’m afraid, 
to keep you to herself when others are longings 
after you.’’ 

Janet laughed. 

‘ ‘ I have no idea who those others may be — 
for my sole acquaintances here have been the 
children. Indeed, I consulted my own pleasure 
quite as much as Mrs. Russell’s in spending 
the evening up stairs. You must confess that 
it is rather stupid sitting all alone in the midst 
of a crowd of strangers.” 

“But, my dear Miss Brown, you do not 
mean to say that you are absolutely without 
acquaintances here?” 

She turned to him with a swift flash of pride, 
and held out her hand: “Not now,” she said 
feelingly, “Not now.” 

He raised the little white hand to his lips. 
“You need not fear being left to yourself from 
this time forward, if I can prevent it, ’ ’ he said 
seriously. * * * * * 

‘ ‘ I wonder where Bob and the children are ? ’ ’ 
exclaimed Janet, after they had been on the 
rocks a little while. 

“How like your sex! Here I have been do- 
ing my best to entertain you, and all the time 
you have been thinking about ‘Bob and the 
children!”’ 

The General spoke playfully, but there was 
a touch of disappointment in his voice. 

‘“Should auld acquaintance be forgot?’” 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 47 

quoted Janet. “I must not slight old friends 
for new. ’ ’ 

“How just you are! 1 am glad to know one 
woman who not only has correct theories, but 
puts them in practice.” 

“Now you are pleased to be satirical. As 
Lord Byron would say, ‘you have ironed me 
flat.’ But I assure you, sir, that I rise superior 
to such applications of sarcasm; the ‘satiric 
thong’ has no terrors for me.” 

‘ ‘Are you a classical scholar ? ’ ’ 

The General asked this question with the 
grave interest that a father might show for a 
petted child, whom he wished to have excel in 
all things. The satiric thong" had provoked 
the question. 

“No, not a scholar; I wish I was! I have 
studied the ancient languages a bit, but my 
knowledge of them is superficial.” 

“I am a great advocate of the study of 
Latin — for girls as well as boys. It strength- 
ens the mind, and is, besides, an invaluable 
assistant in the study of the modern tongues. 
You know French and German, I suppose?” 

“Oh, yes, after a sort; pray, do you wish to 
engage my services as nursery governess ? ’ ’ 
she inquired mischievously. 

The General smiled. 

“I am sorry I haven’t occasion to engage 
you in that capacity.” 


48 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

“I expect to be somebody s governess next 
year. ’ ’ 

“Indeed!” There was no mistaking the 
surprise in the intonation. 

“That is,” resumed Janet, amused at her 
companion’s expression, “if I succeed in get- 
ting a place.” 

The General saw his mistake. “And how 
will you go about it?” 

“I shall advertise in several papers, and ask 
my friends to recommend me — may I count 
upon you to help the cause?” She felt that 
she was teasing him. 

“I shan’t promise until I know you better,” 
he answered; “but you astonish me; is this a 
necessity or a freak?” 

“A little of both. The war left us nothing 
but our lands, and as my friends will not con- 
sent to have me live on the plantation alone 
with the servants I have rented it. After taxes 
are paid I get but little money; still, I could 
manage to live upon my rent if I had not such 
luxurious tastes. In order to gratify them, ulti- 
mately, I mean to go out teaching for a few 
years. Then I trust that things on the planta- 
tion will improve, or I be able to sell it at a 
good value, * * or something y she broke 
off suddenly. 

“A few years!” echoed the General, in a 
musing tone. 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


49 


“Yes; in five years I hope to be able to go 
abroad; I long so to travel among the great 
cities of the Old World ! And when I am 
twenty-seven years old I think I may venture 
to carry out my wish.” 

“ Twenty-seven years old!” echoed the Gen- 
eral, in the same dreamy way — then he roused 
himself: “You will never be old enough to 
travel without a companion,” he declared with 
energy. 

Janet laughed: “You predict an early grave 
for me, then ? ‘ Whom the gods love, die 

young,’ they say, but I have no cause to think 
myself the object of their affection.” 

“It is not those only whom the God’s love 
that perish early,” said the General, and the 
stern lines about his mouth seemed to deepen. 
Janet remembered that he had lost his wife 
when she was a young thing, and she felt pro- 
voked at herself for thus reminding him of his 
loss. While she was floundering about in her 
mind after something to change the subject of 
conversation, she heard her companion exclaim: 
“There come ‘Bob and the children!’ Permit 
me to congratulate you.” 

The words and the tone reassured her, and 
a moment after the noisy group drew near. 
They very effectually altered the current of 
talk, and during the remainder of the morning 
there was no chance to resume the tHe-db-itte. 


50 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


“You will be down this evening, Miss 
Brown?” the General asked, as they were sep- 
arating at dinner time. 

“And what will Mrs. Russell say?” she in- 
quired archly. 

“She must learn to be generous; I shall not 
encourage monopolies. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But I thought you commended me for my 
attention to my chaperon awhile ago?” and 
Janet made a little moue. 

“Quite likely,” returned her companion, 
undaunted, “but ‘self the wavering balance 
shakes,’ and you know the consequence.” 

“Yes,” she said with sudden gravity, “the 
balance wavers, and you should not tempt 
me.” 

He did not entreat her any more — he spoke 
resolutely now: 

‘ ‘ I shall look for you in the parlor after tea — 
remember,” and bade her au revoir. 

He believed that she would come. “Not an 
acquaintance here beside myself,” he mused. 

‘ ‘ I shall not have a crowd of people coming up 
to interrupt us. How fortunate I am! How 
fortunate I am!” 

His sense of justice and abhorrence of mo- 
nopolies had suddenly vanished into thin air. 


CHAPTER V. 


General Carson’s self-gratulations proved to 
be premature. 

He had not gone twenty steps when he was 
overtaken by a young man, who greeted him 
with extreme warmth of manner. 

“I have been loafing on the esplanade an 
hour or more, hoping to catch you,” continued 
the newcomer, after their greeting was over, 
“and w'as giving up in despair when I caught 
sight of you entering the house. How well you 
are looking, sir! Quite ready for a campaign?’^ 

Something in the General’s mind caused him 
to smile at these words. 

‘ ‘ I have no desire to enter upon another cam- 
paign, ’ ’ he said pleasantly. ‘ ‘ I prefer the ease 
of a civilian’s life — besides, peace hath its vic- 
tories no less renowned than war.” 

“No one has proven that more conclusively 
than General Carson.” 

The General bowed. “And I can return the 
compliment; you and your ilk, will yet prove 
to us that the pen is mightier than the sword,” 
he said with such friendliness that his listener 
blushed with pleasure. 

This young man was, in point of fact, a dis- 


52 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


tinguished member of Boston society, and a 
shining light in Boston literary circles. 

Possessed of unusual ability, and the ‘ ‘eternal 
patience” which Michael Angelo declared is 
identical with genius, there was little that Hugh 
Gardner had left undone to make of himself an 
accomplished scholar. He had graduated at 
Harvard and studied later on at the University 
of Berlin. A natural taste for art, combined 
with earnest study and close observation, had 
made him a critic of no ordinary pretension. 
Magazines clamored for articles from his pen; 
societies importuned him to lecture before them, 
and the modest volume of essays which he pub- 
lished soon after his return to America met with 
universal approbation and ready sale. 

The warmth of his greeting of General Car- 
son, while it bordered upon extravagance, was 
thoroughly sincere. He had known the great 
soldier from his youth up, and his admiration 
of him was boundless. It was not the General’s 
war record which exalted him in the eyes of his 
youthful admirer so much as the course he had 
pursued since the war — above all, the modesty 
of his bearing then and now. 

The young aspirant after literary fame had 
ever felt disdainful pity for those commanders 
who — 

“ Rustling hear in every breeze. 

The laurels of Miltiades,” 

and now that his own name was being caught 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


53 


up by a fickle public, he realized more deeply 
than ever the need of strength of character to 
resist the flattery which attends success. 

The two friends stood conversing for a space. 
It was not until they were about to part that 
Hugh Gardner ventured to prefer his request 
that General Carson would present him to 
Janet. 

‘ ‘ I have noticed her for days, and have not 
found any one to introduce me, and I confess 
to you that I have lingered here hoping to 
meet her.” 

The General assured him there would be no 
difficulty; he would speak to the lady that very 
evening, and let him know immediately after. 
Then they separated. 

Later on the General watched his friend walk- 
ing down the gallery with a party of gay young 
folks, and his brows contracted. A strange re- 
gret seized him, an inexplicable chagrin; was it 
because Hugh Gardner was handsome and 
clever, and graceful ? Perhaps ; but more than 
all, because he was young. ‘ ‘ He has asked me 
to present him to her, and I have consented to 
do so,” the soldier muttered to himself, and a 
sigh broke in his heart. But a moment after he 
asked himself with displeasure what was the 
folly he contemplated ? Hugh had said he 
looked ready for a fresh campaign. What 
would he think, could he know the character 
of the seige he had resolved upon ? ‘ ‘ She has 


54 


'‘No. 40” — A Romance. 


‘the dew of her youth,’ and I am well-nigh in 
the evening shadows; why should I waste my 
heart in a dream like this ? I will be done with 
it! I will put it away once for all!” And in the 
energy of his resolve, he almost stamped his 
foot upon the earth. Yet it seemed to him, for 
all his brave resolution, that a cloud had passed 
over the sun, dimming the radiance of the day. 

‘ ‘ Can you spare me a little while this even- 
ing?” asked Janet of her chaperon, when they 
were rising from tea. 

‘‘Certainly, my dear,” responded Mrs Rus- 
sell, ‘‘I have some important letters to write, 
and I feared you would be lonesome here — 
pray, do not let me detain you when something 
pleasant offers elsewhere. I have been too 
selfish, I fear, in keeping you so closely con- 
fined.” 

‘‘Oh, indeed you must not say so!” ex- 
claimed Janet, leaning over her friend and 
touching her hair with her lips. ‘‘You are the 
most agreeable company I could find, and I 
consult my own pleasure in staying with you.” 

Mrs. Russell smiled. She did not ask the 
girl what took her down stairs — she fancied she 
knew already, for Janet had mentioned her 
r epicentre with General Carson, and although 
she did so casually enough, the feminine intui- 
tion of her chaperon led her to believe that the 
acquaintance between her young companion 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


55 


and the war-worn veteran would not end with 
that rencontre merely. Janet must have di- 
vined her thoughts, for she said after a pause: 

“I would like so much to have you know 
General Carson, Mrs. Russell. I am sure you 
would be pleased with him and he with you. ’ ’ 

“Thank you, dear. The General, I dare 
say, has no time to waste upon old folks like 
me. 

“Old folks like you, indeed! How you want 
a compliment! but I shan’t pay it,’’ cried Janet 
affectionately — and, indeed, seeing Mrs. Rus- 
sell then, one could easily believe she did not 
mean what she said. 

“Besides,’’ continued Janet, “the General 
is not one of the young folks, by any means ; 
his hair and moustache are as gray as a bad- 
ger. May I not invite him up here some time 
and present him? 

This was added in a coaxing way which Mrs. 
Russell could not resist. 

“You may, if you desire it so earnestly; but 
if the General gets bored, be the consequences 
upon your head!’’ 

“I’ll take them!’’ laughed Janet, and went 
into her own room to give a few extra touches 
to her toilet. 

While she was doing it, Chloe came in. 

“Does you want anything, honey?’’ she in- 
quired solicitously. 

“Is that you. Aunt Chloe? Yes, I do want 


56 “No. 40” — A Romance. 

something; come and hold this hand-glass a 
minute, that I may see to arrange my hair. ’ ’ 

Chloe held the glass as directed, giving nods 
of emphatic approval or the reverse as the hair- 
dressing progressed. 

At last it was finished; then Janet pinned on 
a great bunch of natural roses which Mrs. Rus- 
sell had commanded her to wear, and taking up 
her fan told Chloe that she might go. 

Her heart almost misgave her as she went 
slowly down the steps, not from fear of the 
crowd she was to encounter, but because of the 
strangeness of her joining it. She was seeking 
the parlor at the urgent solicitation of her new 
acquaintance, and his alone; and at the thought 
a shade of embarrassment crept upon her; she 
was afraid that her compliance would seem too 
lightly won; that he might not be in the same 
humor this evening as when she parted from 
him; then suppose she should not encounter 
him ? suppose other friends had called him off? 
suppose she should be alone in the parlor and 
people suspect what had brought her there? 
The uneasiness of her situation became almost 
unbearable as she advanced step by step, but at 
the foot of the stairway she met the faithful Bob. 

Geeriminy he cried, as his eyes fell upon 
her, “if you ain’t stunning to-night! They’ll 
all be madder than ever.’’ 

“What do you mean. Bob?’’ she asked, 
drawing close to him, as if for protection. 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


57 


“ I mean Sis and her set; they are as mad as 
blazes because he has cut them all for you, and 
if they see you in that get-up they’ll just — just 
kick the bucket ! ’ ’ 

“Don’t talk slang, sir,’’ admonished Janet, 
with a tap of her fan, while her eyes sparkled. 
She felt strangMy at her ease at once. 

“I suppose he sent them?’’ said Bob jeal- 
ously, pointing to the roses at her belt? 

“Indeed he did not, then!” she retorted. 

“Well, he’s looking for you> I feel it in my 
bones r ' — this was uttered in a tone of despair. 
“He has been perambulating the parlors and 
halls a full hour, and I’ve been keeping my eye 
on him; that’s the reason I haven’t gone to 
bed.” 

“You dreadful boy! Shall I ever get at the 
bottom of your mysteries?” 

“Didn’t I tell you?” whispered Bob, tri- 
umphantly. “I’m off! goodnight!” And he 
slipped around the corner of the hall, as Gene- 
ral Carson approached from the other direc- 
tion. He was as much charmed with her 
appearance as Bob had been, but he did not 
tell her so. Janet looked strikingly handsome 
in black, and to-night she wore a black satin 
dress which fitted her slender figure to perfec- 
tion. The mass of creamy roses which she 
wore at her belt was the only ornament she 
boasted, but they were enough; and the shim- 
mering black of the satin threw into bold relief 


58 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

the brilliant coloring of her hair and cheeks, 
making an ensemble delightful to dwell upon. 
General Carson could scarcely keep his eyes 
off her as they walked through the suite of 
parlors, seeking a place to sit down. At the 
end of the last room, adjoining the dancing 
pavilion they discovered a sofa and immediately 
occupied it. 

‘ ‘ I promised that you should not lack for 
acquaintances,” said the General, “and I have 
already the opportunity to fulfill my word.” 

Janet looked at him inquiringly. 

“I have been requested by several young 
gentlemen to introduce them to you.” 

“Thanks! ” 

“That sounds like ‘ nobody^ asked you, sir, 
she said T ” he exclaimed amusedly, for the 
monosyllable did not express unqualified ap- 
proval of his offer. ‘ ‘ Of course your pleasure 
alone is to be consulted in the matter^though 
I may say that with one of the young men I 
mentioned you could not fail to be pleased.” 
He felt that he must urge the introduction of 
the Bostonian as a set-off to the injustice of 
his regret in the morning. 

“Don’t think me exclusive, or ungracious; 
if they are your friends I will be pleased to meet 
them — only, I was thinking that it was rather 
late in the day.” 

“They had nobody to introduce them be- 
fore.” 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


59 


“True. I was left to myself before you 
came — but I did not mind it as much as vou 
might suppose. I reflected upon the transitori- 
ness of watering place attachments, and con- 
soled myself with the thought that it would be 
all the same a hundred years hence.” 

“What a philosopher! You should establish 
a school! There could be no doubt of the 
strength of your following.” 

“Thanks; you are laughing at me. I sup- 
pose, then, you think it will not be all the same 
a century hence? And you believe in these 
watering place acquaintances ? ’ ’ 

“I would fain do so, since I have met you 
here.” 

She bowed with a blush: ‘“You flatter me! 
Well, I suppose you are all alike. I don’t for- 
get that it was one of your sex who said: 

‘The face the most fair to our vision allowed. 

Is the face we encounter, and lose, irf the crowd.’ ” 

“A man wrote that, certainly. But you for- 
get that another wrote of a form^ 

‘Which rose where’er he turned his eye, 

The morning star of memory.’ 

“There may be faces which seem the fairer for 
their flitting, but there are others which grow 
more beautiful in a closer view, and become 
dearer with acquaintance.” His eyes rested 


6o 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


upon the face at his side with such a warmth 
of admiration that the girl’s eyes fell uneasily. 

“So you think watering-place attachments 
transitory and valueless,’’ he resumed after a 
brief silence, “I think, myself, that the seashore 
is not a propitious spot to select for the estab- 
lishment of a lasting interest; one is always 
being reminded of the house in the parable, 
built upon the sands.’’ 

“And of woman’s vows, which are ‘writ in 
sand, ’ but a truce to this sharp ‘ encounter of 
our wits!’ Tell me of those young men who 
asked you to present them to me — of that one 
you praised so just now.’’ 

“Well, his name is Gardner — Hugh Gard- 
ner — he lives in Boston ; he is clever, cultivated, 
agreeable, handsome, .’’ 

“I don’t like handsome men; they are so 
conceited.’’ 

“But Hugh is not; he is as modest as he is 
deserving. ’ ’ 

“Indeed! And what is his age?’’ She did 
not really care about it, but she thought that he 
liked to talk of the young man — he was evi- 
dently interested in him. 

“I cannot tell you, but I should say he is in 
the neighborhood of thirty.’’ 

young f and she flashed a bewildering 
glance at her companion. 

“What a consummate coquette!’’ he ejacu- 
lated to himself. “He is at just the age to 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 61 

have ambitious schemes, and to hope to realize 
them,” he quietly returned. 

“Are we ever too old for ambition?” she 
questioned softly. 

“Perhaps not, but ambition without hope for 
its foundation is a paradox.” 

“‘6V la jeunesse savait ; si la vieillese pou- 
vaity^’’ she quoted d demi-voix ; but he heard — 

“ It is a terrible trial to feel one’s self growing 
old.” 

“We think too much about it,” she said with 
sudden energy. ‘ ‘ After all, what are days and 
months and years? Some people are born old; 
some never know what age means. I am 
strongly disposed to the French idea, that a 
man is only so old as he feels, and a woman so 
old as she looks. But see there, what a very 
handsome creature;” her eyes rested upon a 
young man who was approaching them. 

“That is Hugh Gardner; I dare say he is 
looking for me; shall I introduce him now?” 

‘ ‘ By all means ! I shall pardon conceit for 
the sake of that perfect face, ’ ’ she replied 
warmly, and the General felt a pang in his heart 
as he rose and advanced to bring Hugh Gard- 
ner forward to present him. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Hugh Gardner was not the only new ac- 
quaintance Janet Brown made that evening. 
Having gained her consent to meet them, Gene- 
ral Carson could not reasonably delay intro- 
ducing his friends to her, and after a little she 
found herself the centre of a brilliant circle. 

Mrs. Cyrus Gilfillan, of New York, who was 
one of the first to seek her, promised to be 
overwhelmingly gracious, and to her astonish- 
ment the young Virginia lady met her advances 
with polite indifference and appeared quite un- 
impressed by the distinguished attentions she 
was receiving. 

Janet in truth took it all cum grano salis. 
These people had passed and re-passed her 
for days in the halls and on the galleries ; 
they sat on the esplanade for hours with their 
chairs touching hers, and not one of them 
ever deigned to notice her proximity, or re- 
marked en passant that it was a fine day. — 
They sought her now because General Car- 
son was seen with her, and their civility was 
due her as a friend of his. It was natural 
enough, and well enough. She had no com- 
plaint to bring against them for their past ne- 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 63 

gleet, but their present officious patronage 
amused, while it also provoked her. 

Hugh Gardner she liked at once — he was 
agreeable, and frank, and original — besides, he 
was so extremely handsome that it gave her 
pleasure to look at him. 

She directed most of her remarks to him, and 
unconsciously detained him near her the entire 
evening. They were in the midst of an earnest 
tUe-db-tUe when Mrs. Gilfillan approached them, 
leaning upon General Carson’s arm. Hugh 
Gardner offered his seat on the sofa, into which 
the lady sank languidly down. 

“So charmed to meet you. Miss Brown!” 
she murmured — “General Carson makes him- 
self doubly welcome, by procuring us the honor 
of your acquaintance.” The General bowed 
at this, and Janet uttered a platitude of grateful 
acknowledgment, while Hugh Gardner looked 
at the speaker with an expression of pleased 
surprise. 

“Old Point is a popular resort with Vir- 
ginians?” resumed Mrs. Gilfillan, “but I un- 
derstand that the Summer is their favorite 
season — I did not hope to find one here in 
March.” 

“Why should you?” thought Janet satiri- 
cally. Mrs. Gilfillan was the most pronouced 
Gothamite in style of any woman at the Point ; 
there could be nothing in common between her 
and the average Virginian. 


64 “No. 40” — A Romance. 

“Your climate does not require you to leave 
home in Winter, as ours does.” And the lady 
sighed. Hugh Gardner found it difficult to 
repress a smile — this quasi-invalidism he knew 
well was put on for effect. 

“It is another illustration of the law of com- 
pensation, Madame,” Janet remarked; “our 
climate is fortunately mild enough to permit us 
to stay at home without risk to our health, for 
we have not the necessary means to travel, as 
you have.” 

“True — yet everybody in New York is not 
rich, though we have some untold fortunes 
there. ’ ’ 

“So have we in Virginia, but the difficulty is 
that they remain forever untold.” 

Mrs. Gilfillan felt a trifle uneasy; she was not 
quick at repartee, and she could not decide 
whether one was making a joke or uttering a 
witticism — she always suspected that they were 
laughing at her — but the girl at her side seemed 
incapable of wounding any one, and one quick 
glance at her face reassured her. Meanwhile 
the gentlemen had withdrawn, and Janet found 
herself alone with her new acquaintance. The 
conversation was not of a brilliant order. Mrs. 
Gilfillan talked a good deal about what she had 
at home, and what discomforts one had to put 
up with in hotels, and what a misfortune it was 
to be compelled to travel for one’s health. 

“I thought it was the fashion with New 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


65 


Yorkers to be continually away from home, 
Janet remarked when an opportunity occurred 
for her to speak, ‘ ‘ it seems to me that I never 
hear of an elegant house being built and fur- 
nished on Fifth Avenue, that the very next 
thing is not the departure of the family for 
Europe, or California, or Florida.” 

“It does look so, indeed,” but they come 
back to New York sooner or later, and then the 
house is ready to receive them. This is my 
first visit to the South in ten years ; last Winter 
I was in southern France. You have been 
abroad, I suppose?” 

“No; I have that pleasure still in reserve.” 

‘ ‘ I suppose you visit Old Point every year ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I was never here before. ’ ’ 

“Indeed! You do not come for your health, 
evidently. I suppose you have friends here ? ’ ’ 

Janet’s eyes rested upon General Carson, 
who was standing a short distance from them, 
conversing with some gentlemen. 

“Yes,” she replied, “I have very excellent 
friends here.” 

“You do not sit in the parlors of an evening. 
I have not seen you here until to-night,” and 
Mrs. Gilfillan’s eyes, in turn, sought the group 
of gentlemen. 

Janet noted it. 

‘ ‘ I usually remain with my chaperon, in our 
private parlor,” she returned carelessly. 

Mrs. Gilfillan was on the point of a well-bred 


66 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


stare. A chaperon with a private parlor? 
Who could it be? People thought this girl 
was at the Hygeia on her own hook. 

‘ ‘ General Carson is an old friend of yours, I 
see, ’ ’ and she smiled more graciously than ever 
upon her companion. 

“I met him yesterday for the first time,” 
and Janet smiled back at her interrogator. 

Mrs. Gilfillan lifted her eyebrows: “He has 
made rapid progress, I must say!” She did 
not address the words to Janet, but seemed to 
be thinking aloud. 

The color flamed in the girl’s cheek, but 
passed away as swiftly as it came. 

‘ ‘ General Carson was a friend of mother be- 
fore I was born,” she explained haughtily, and 
to her relief he came over to them at that very 
instant, thus preventing a fresh outburst of as- 
tonishment from Mrs. Gilfillan. 

“I think I will go up now,” Janet said, look- 
ing up at him. 

‘ ‘ May I see you to the stairs ? ” he asked. 

She rose and took his arm. 

“Good evening,” she said, turning pleas- 
antly to Mrs. Gilfillan, ‘ ‘ perhaps we shall meet 
again. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Certainly, my dear, I shall be here another 
week. ’ ’ 

“Another week,” laughed Janet to herself. 
“What glorious opportunities for becoming 
friendly! I have been here a week and more. 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


67 


and this is the first time you have noticed my 
existence — all because General Carson is my 
friend!” 

H? * * * * * 

“Have I not done my duty nobly?” the 
General inquired of Janet as they neared the 
stairs, where he was to take leave of her. 

‘ ‘ Should you consider it a duty 1 I had hoped 
it would prove a pleasure, ’ ’ she retorted. 

“‘A pleasure,’ introducing those charming 
people to you? ‘A pleasure,’ giving you a 
stick to break my own head with ? I did not 
look upon it in that light, I must confess.” 

“Indeed, indeed you have been the most un- 
selfish, magnanimous, generous-hearted of men; 
language cannot express the sense of indebted- 
ness I feel.” 

She was talking sarcasm now, and he knew 
it. 

“You requested me to come into the parlor 
to-night, that you might be with me. I came 
gladly, and no sooner had we met than you 
" urged me to let you introduce a dozen or more 
people to me — Mr. Wallace, Mr. Davis, Mrs. 
Drew, .” 

''Mr. Gardner,'' he interrupted. “Surely 
you do not overlook him I ’ ’ 

Her face brightened; “I was reserving him 
as a cap to the climax.” 

‘ ‘ I think Mrs. Gilfillan might serve that pur- 
pose better,” he remarked dryly. 


68 “No. 40” — A Romance. 

Janet laughed — her good humor was re- 
stored. 

‘ ‘ I am sorry to think that your evening was 
not agreeable, it has certainly been significant. ’ ’ 
He uttered an unconscious prophesy, thinking 
of Hugh Gardner. 

“It has been both,” she said with swift con- 
trition, ‘ ‘ and I owe it entirely to you. ’ ’ 

“What a perverse child you are,” he ex- 
claimed, taking her hand, and gazing into her 
eyes with a tender look in his own. 

“Yes,” she returned, making a money “as 
the negroes would say, I am '' awful spiled' 
But come, I must say good-night. Parting is 
‘ sweet sorrow, ’ but it must not be said by you 
and me ‘ until it be to-morrow. ’ ’ ’ 

“‘To-morrow,’” he echoed; “to-morrow 
we will have another chat among the rocks. ’ ’ 

“Oh, how awfully provoking!” she cried, 
with mock sadness, “to-morrow we can have 
nothing of the sort, because I have promised to 
go to the Fortress with Mr. Gardner. I could 
not refuse such a good friend of yours, you 
know. ’ ’ 

General Carson bowed — “Certainly not! 
Permit me to wish you a pleasant walk. ’ ’ 

“To the Fortress with him; and I meant to 
take her there, ’ ’ he mused, walking slowly to 
his own room. In “No. 40” I caught the first 
glimpse of her face; in “No. 40” I found her 
book and read her name on the cover. Is “No. 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


69 


40 ” to follow me through life, mocking me with 
shadows ? It shattered my happiness in the old 
days, and now that I dream no more of hap- 
piness, but of peace, will it make that, too, im- 
possible for me ? 


CHAPTER VII. 


Janet did not visit the Fortress after all. The 
next day, when Hugh Gardner came to claim 
his engagement, she expressed a desire to know 
what was beyond “the point.” To the point 
they went accordingly, and found nothing but 
an uninteresting stretch of beach, strewn with 
shells, driftwood and seaweeds. 

It was very exhilarating, as well as good 
exercise, walking through the sands in the 
face of the winds, and Janet’s spirits rose 
with every step. Hugh Gardner roused him- 
self from his habitual quietude, and surprised 
himself by the animation of his replies to the 
girl’s bright sayings. She kept him in a per- 
petual activity of mind and body, as she ran on 
ahead of him calling back some witty or sar- 
castic mot. It was dinner-time when they re- 
turned to the hotel, and Janet went up to her 
room to take off her coat and hat. 

“You have had a pleasant day, dear?” Mrs. 
Russell asked her, as she entered the sitting- 
room. 

“Delightful! The wind was as good as 
champagne. ’ ’ 

Was it only the wind, dear?” 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


71 


Janet laughed. “Oh, no! there was the 

beach, and the sky, and the water, and 

Mr. Gardner.” 

“Mr. Gardner! Why, you are broadening 
your philacteries ! Who, pray, is this latest 
follower?” 

Janet told her. She could indeed tell a great 
deal about the young man who had talked to 
her frankly of himself and his people. 

When she got through with it, Mrs. Russell 
nodded her head approvingly. 

‘ ‘ I know who he is ; it is a family of clever 
men. Isn’t this young man an author? It 
seems to me that I have read some articles 
from his pen.” 

Janet said he was. She had found to her 
surprise that he was the author of a book she 
had read with interest some months ago. 

“So, then, the choice lies between the sword 
and the pen,” Mrs. Russell observed, after a 
short silence, during which their dinner was 
served. 

“As to which is mightier?” Janet inquired, 
looking at her chaperon with an innocent air. 

“And shall prevail,” added Mrs. Russell 
significantly. 

“Well, I shan’t trouble myself about the 
question, since it isn’t likely that I shall be 
called on to settle it.” 

“We will see,” said Mrs. Russell with em- 
pressment. 


72 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


After dinner Janet pleaded fatigue, and went 
into her room to lie down. She was restless 
and uneasy, and she could not get to sleep. 
Perhaps it was a reaction from her unnaturally 
high spirits of the morning, which had set in. A 
weariness of body and mind overcame her, and 
she lay upon her bed wide awake, but unable to 
read, or think, or wish. Once or twice the 
words of her chaperon moved lazily across 
her mind, but they did not impress her. When 
Chloe put her head in at the door, late in the 
afternoon, she saw her young mistress lying on 
her bed, apparently asleep — so she went quietly 
away. After an hour she returned. 

“Does you want anything, honey?” she 
asked softly. 

“What o’clock is it?” Janet yawned as she 
put the question, but she jumped up quickly 
when told that the tea was already set for her. 

“Miss Russell told me not to wake you; she 
would put the things by,” said Chloe; but 
Janet assured her that she had not been asleep; 
she was only resting a bit. When she entered 
the sitting-room, Mrs. Russell had taken her 
tea, and was sitting before the fire cutting the, 
leaves of the magazines which had just come. 

“How cosy it is here!” Janet exclaimed, 
drawing up a chair to the little table spread 
with bread and tea and cakes. “How much 
nicer than that bustling place down stairs ! ’ ’ 

After finishing her tea, she took up one of 
the magazines. 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 73 

“Are you not going into the parlor this 
evening?” Mrs. Russell enquired. 

“No; I shall stay here with you.” 

‘ ‘ But, my dear, I cannot consent to have you 
seclude yourself on my account. ’ ’ 

“Not when it is my pleasure to do so?” 

Mrs Russell smiled. 

‘ ‘ But I will incur the resentment of your new 
friends, if I permit you to absent yourself ’ ’ 

“Never mind; their resentment will not 

frighten us, and I am tired of the whole 

lotr 

This last clause was jerked out with such ve- 
hemence that it startled Mrs. Russell. She 
drew her own conclusions, but she wisely held 
her peace, and nothing more was said on the 
subject. 

The following day, when Janet went down 
stairs, the first person she met was Hugh Gard- 
ner. He proposed a walk, but she preferred to 
sit on the gallery; so he sought out two com- 
fortable chairs, and drew them a little apart 
from the crowd. She was in a pensive mood, 
and Hugh, perceiving it, lapsed into his habitual 
quiet. They talked by fits and starts with in- 
tervals of absolute silence, which were grateful 
to Janet. She was, as General Carson had de- 
clared, a perverse child, and just now her mood 
was none of the best. 

But her companion seemed to understand her, 
and while he humored her outwardly, he exer- 


74 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


cised a healthy influence upon her. She grew 
to like him more and more — he was so intelli- 
gent in his talk, so graceful in his manner, so 
sympathetic in his feelings. Almost before she 
knew it, she had told him much of her past life, 
and the plans she was making for her future. 

Not a syllable of what she said escaped him; 
but he listened without seeming to listen; for he 
felt that too close attention would embarrass her. 

The day progressed, and still they kept their 
seats unmindful of the sunshine which had 
driven many of the ladies indoors. They were 
frequently interrupted by common acquaint- 
ances who would stop en passant to exchange a 
word with them. 

But Janet hoped in vain for the General. She 
had not seen him the day before, and she won- 
dered what had become of him — she even began 
to fear that he had left the place — but she would 
not inquire for him — after all, what did it 
matter ? 

“What a lot of people you know!” ex- 
claimed Hugh Gardner, with a touch of vexa- 
tion. The latest interruption had put an end 
to her talk about herself. 

“Since three days ago, yes. Some scores 
have been introduced to me; I scarcely recall 
them.” 

“Comforting, I declare. To be forgotten in 
three days! Is your memory so poor?” 

‘ ‘ Cela depend. ’ ’ 


“No. 40”— A Romance. 75 

‘ ‘ I would hate to think myself forgotten by 
you.” 

‘ ‘ That would be impossible — here. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And here only ? ’ ’ his voice sank to a lower 
key: his eyes sought hers. 

‘ ‘ How handsome he is ! Like a young god, ’ ’ 
she reflected as she met his gaze; then she 
turned and looked at the sands laced with the 
crawling foam. 

“Let us not anticipate,” she said, making an 
effort to speak lightly, for there was a strange 
oppression at her heart — “Sufficient unto the 
day is the evil thereof” 

“The evil, yes; — but I thought of the good: 
not the pain of being forgotten by you, but the 
happiness of being remembered;” his voice 
vibrated with suppressed emotion. 

It struck her painfully. 

‘ ‘ They belong to the future : do not cumber 
the happy present with either hopes or fears — 
is it alone not sufficient for you ? ” 

It was a dangerous question, and she has- 
tened to answer it for him. 

“We are all alike, Mr. Gardner, ignoring in 
our dreams of something better, the good we 
possess. The poet spoke from his heart when 
he said, 

‘Man never is, but always to be blest.”' 

“You have a quotation ready for every- 
thing!” exclaimed her companion, admiring her 


76 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


readiness, but provoked at her coolness. He 
was cool, too, in his bearing, but there was a 
gleam in his dark eyes which betrayed the fire 
burning unseen in his heart. He was in love 
with her; and while he did not choose to tell 
her so, he would have been glad to have her 
divine it. 

Yet, why should he not tell her — now, here, 
and end the matter? He had known her but 
two days, nay scarcely so long as that; but 
what of it? He felt that he had known her all 
his life. She was the incarnation of his ideal, 
the embodiment of all those feminine graces and 
enchantments which his soul had hitherto but 
dimly apprehended. 

For days he had followed her with his 
eyes, unobserved by her; for days he had 
studied her with the critical acumen of an art 
connoisseur, and the fervor of a devotee. She 
was like a beautiful picture, and he prostrated 
himself before her, as the devout worshipper 
falls before the altar-piece. Yes, he had known 
her all these years of restless inactivity, of blind 
groping — and now, the portals of the unseen 
world opened before him; her luminous eyes 
shone like stars to guide his feet through the 
trials and dangers and difficulties of life; her 
tender voice “swept the chords in which his 
heaven was set!” 

Should he not tell her so and seek her an- 
swer? But a sickening dread of losing her 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


77 


came over him. The unsuspicious laugh, the 
calm gaze of her untroubled eyes, smote him 
with fierce pain. It was too soon to tell her. 
This was not the time nor the place. “Not 
here, not yet,” he reasoned with himself. “She 
has not known me all this time as I have known 
her, and worshipped her. It might startle her, 
perhaps affright her, and be my undoing. I 
must wait.” 

It was late in the morning when Janet went 
back to her chaperon. She was not enthusi- 
astic as on the previous day. 

“How was the wind^ dear?” Mrs. Russell 
asked teasingly. 

“There was not a breath stirring,” she re- 
plied, sinking down upon a chair. “Not enough 
to float a feather; and the sun was oppressively 
warm.” 

Something else oppressed her besides the sun- 
shine, but she would not recognize it. She 
had not seen her friend. General Carson. 

That evening Janet went down to the parlors. 
A number of young men crowded around her, 
importuning her to dance. She cared very little 
for dancing, but she had no good reason to give 
for declining to make engagements, so the gal- 
lant dancers bore her off to the ball-room in 
triumph. It was eleven o’clock when the music 
stopped, and she hurried up to bid Mrs. Rus- 
sell good night. On her way through the hall 
she overtook General Carson, who was walk- 


78 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


ing with a couple of officers from the Fortress. 
He bowed to her as she passed him — merely- 
bowed; he was talking earnestly to the others. 

For days after this, Janet found every hour of 
her time solicited. It was a sail to the Rip Raps, 
a stroll around the Fortress, a walk up the beach, 
a drive to Hampton, a talk on the gallery — fol- 
lowing each upon the other in quick succes- 
sion. She did not always accept the invitations; 
sometimes she pleaded fatigue, or a headache, 
or her chaperon’s need of her, but despite 
her evasions, there was always an engagement 
ahead of her. Then, too, Mrs. Russell was 
not left to her own devices any more. Her 
friends began to invade her sitting-room, find- 
ing it impossible to tempt her out of her se- 
clusion. Her presence at the Hygeia had 
remained a secret until Janet found it neces- 
sary to divulge her chaperon’s name. The 
announcement caused a sensation, as might 
have been expected, and the ‘ ‘ dear five hun- 
dred ’ ’ hastened to show the disconsolate widow 
their solicitous interest in her health. Mrs. 
Russell bore the invasion with great good 
humor — indeed, she was rather pleased than 
otherwise. Thanks to Janet’s bright company, 
much of the gloom which enveloped her spirits 
when she first arrived at the Point, had passed 
away, and she recognized the fact that her own 
retiracy was compelling her young friend to a 
similar life. Now that people were constantly 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


79 


dropping in to sit with her, there was no rea- 
son for Janet to hurry back from her own 
pleasures, and each day she issued an order to 
the girl to stay away as long as she wished, 
and to keep in the open air. She never once 
doubted her prudence or propriety, or felt that 
she needed espionage. 

Mrs. Russell had not met General Carson. 
The day he called upon her in her private par- 
lor, he was told that the ladies had gone to a 
neighboring room to see a sick friend: so he 
left his card, but did not repeat the visit. 

Janet met him every day, but only in a casual 
way and for a moment. The change in him 
surprised her; but when she considered the 
matter, she found that the change existed in 
her imagination, and not him. 

He was always cordial and courteous, and 
willing to serve her, but his gravity deepened, 
she thought, and he never sought her now. 

His neglect wounded her vanity at first. 
“Was he afraid that I would be a burden upon 
his hands, that he hurried to introduce other 
men to me?” she asked herself It looked 
very like it, as day after day rolled by and he 
made no effort to interfere with those others. 

“He need not have feared; I wouldn’t have 
imposed upon him!” was her indignant com- 
ment, and the greeting she gave him grew 
colder and more distant, until it finally became 
the merest nod of recognition. 


8o 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


coeur humain^ comme il est bizarre et 
incons'equent ! ’ ’ 

All the while Janet was being irresistibly 
drawn to the man she contemned, and her in- 
difference was but the masque to hide the 
wound which rankled in her heart. 

She accepted attentions from others that he 
might see her popularity, and she walked and 
danced and sailed with a dash and abandon 
hitherto unknown to herself, and astonishing 
to her chaperon and Chloe. 

The old negress expostulated with her — 
“You’ll kill yourself, chile; that’s what you’ll 
do; you don’t give yourself time to sleep.’’ 

‘ ‘ I give myself exactly eight hours, nursey, ’ ’ 
was the explicit rejoinder. But Janet did not 
mention how many hours of the eight were 
spent in fruitless efforts to slumber. Sometimes 
the grey dawn looked in upon her lying with 
aching eyes and feverish brow, the effects of 
unrest. Excitement was now a necessity to 
her. She welcomed any invitation which 
promised diversion. She was angry with her- 
self and afraid of herself, and she dreaded her 
own company. 

Why was it thus ? She could not ask herself 
the question. She was sickening of “ a vague 
disease, ’ ’ which she would not name even in her 
deepest heart; her trouble was shadowy, and 
she shuddered at the thought of giving it a 
form. She hoped to overtake her old insou- 


“No. 40”— A Romance. 81 

ciant self, and to live back into the old free- 
dom. 

Alas ! how could she deceive herself with that 
illusion ? 

“The first sound in the song of love, 

Scarce more than silence is, and yet a sound, 
Hands of invisible spirits touch the strings 
Of that mysterious instrument, the soul. 

And play the prelude of our fate.” 

Bob Westbrook complained bitterly of Janet’s 
neglect; she did not go to the rocks with the 
children any more. 

“ I wish you didn’t know so many people, I 
do !’ ’ the boy cried out with fierce energy one 
day when he had her attention. 

“You are very unkind, sir, to wish my en- 
joyments at an end!’’ she retorted with one of 
her radiant smiles. 

“I think you might come with me this 
once,’’ he entreated; “I am going away to- 
morrow. ’ ’ 

“Are you, really? I am sorry to hear it. 
Bob.’’ 

“Yes, I dare say,” he muttered skeptically. 
“You’ve got so many spoonies sweet on you 
that there ain’t half a show for an old friend.” 

“Why will you use slang, Bob?” 

Janet was cut to the quick, but she did not 
choose that he should know it. Somebody 
else passed before her mind’s eye at the sound 


82 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


of those wrathful words. Did he, too, think 
thus of her ? 

‘ ‘ I never give up old friends for new, espe- 
cially if they were friends in my hour of need,” 
she added, for Bob was surly and silent. 

“Come, now, you quarrelsome fellow,” she 
continued in a playful voice : 

‘Whither shall we wander ? 

Up stairs, down stairs, in my lady’s chamber ? ’ ” 

“Let’s go and sit among the rocks, for the 
sake of old times,” the young romancer pro- 
posed, his anger dissipated by her readiness to 
oblige him. 

A moment after they were on the beach. 

General Carson saw them crossing the sands, 
and an angry gleam shot from his eyes. He 
thought of the tHe-di-tttes he had promised him- 
self with her, and a derisive smile broke over 
his face. 

‘ ‘ What a fool I would have made of my- 
self, and how she would have laughed,” he 
mused. “She is like the rest; devoured by love 
of admiration, and as remorseless as the sea — 
even that lad cannot escape her.” He turned 
his eyes resolutely away from her, as he kept 
on his stroll, but he could not master his mind 
which reverted to her, nor his heart which cried 
out for her. 

Before the sun sank in the waters that day. 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 83 

he knew that resistance was useless — henceforth 
she, and she alone would be, 

“ The ocean to the river of his thoughts, 

Which terminated all.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Bob was going away, and Janet told him 
again and again how sorry she felt because of 
it. There was no doubting the sincerity of her 
words, even if Bob had felt anxious to disbelieve 
them. As it was, he took a mad delight in 
them, and would ask her at least a dozen times 
a day if she wasn’t going to miss him, and wish 
for him, and think about him. 

Certainly, she was going to do all these — cela 
va sans dire — she had, in fact, grown to be very 
fond of the brave-hearted lad ; she never would 
forget the chivalrous attentions he had paid 
her in the time of her loneliness, and his out- 
spoken admiration of her, undaunted by the 
teasing of his sister and ‘ ‘ her set, ’ ’ was more 
than pleasing to Janet, who saw in it an earnest 
of his future development. Bob was made of 
good, stern stuff, and his friendship was some- 
thing to lay hold upon. Boy though he was, 
there was that inveterateness of attachment in 
him which would make his childish liking for 
one grow with his growth, and strengthen with 
his strength, Janet thought upon it at times 
with a half sigh. She wished that she had a 
little sister to give him for his sweetheart. She 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 85 

would have liked to see him in the family. Bob 
was excellent company, too — he had a fresh, 
original way of putting things, and better still, 
he always had something to put. Rarely a 
day passed that the lad did not find some joke 
to tell, which his inimitable drollery made most 
delicious to his auditor. If, too, the on dits 
occasionally smacked of gossip, who could con- 
demn Janet for listening to them? Was she 
not a woman ? And when her own name ap- 
peared in the bill she would have been more 
than a woman had she turned a deaf ear to it. 

The day of Bob’s departure dawned bright 
and warm, and Janet broke several engage- 
ments in order to spend the morning with him 
on the beach. It was sometime past noon when 
they left the rocks on their way back to the 
hotel. 

“Now remember. Miss Janet, if you should, 
come to New York, you are to send me your 
card — here is my address,’’ said Bob, and he 
slipped into her hand a scrap of paper on which 
was scrawled the street and number of his city 
home. 

‘ ‘ I shall get my mother to go and see you, 
and we shall drive in the park,’’ he continued, 
planning it all in his mind. 

“Perhaps your mother may employ me to 
teach your little sisters,’’ Janet suggested. She 
had told him that she meant to seek a situation 
as a governess. “Who knows? I am going 


.86 “No. 40“— A Romance. 

to send out my advertisement pretty soon now, 
and you can speak a good word for me, can’t 
you. Bob? 

“Jerusalem! I never had thought of that!’’ 
cried the boy with a bound of surprise and 
pleasure combined. ‘ ‘ Certainly we shall have 
a teacher next Winter. Mother said before I 
came down here that she thought the girls 
ought to have one — but,’’ he added, with a 
sudden drop in his voice, — for at that instant 
he remembered his grown sister, and appre- 
hended trouble from her opposition — “aren’t 
you too young to be a teacher ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Certainly not ; I am twenty-three years 
old — that is, I will be next Fall. Besides, age 
has nothing to do with it, if I am competent to 
teach,’’ Janet said resolutely. 

Bob looked at her — 

“I didn’t mean that you were too young — 
that you didn’t have sense enough, I mean,’’ 
he blundered on, turning a shade redder, . 

What he did mean was that her youth and 
her beauty would be insuperable objections in 
the eye of his sister. 

They had nearly reached the hotel; the end 
of the building hiding them from the sight of 
the gallery. 

“I am going to tell you good-bye here. 
Bob,’’ said Janet, “because I shan’t see you 
when the boat starts this afternoon. I am go- 
ing out with a sailing party.’’ 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


87 


‘ ‘ Are you not coming on the gallery now ? ’ ’ 
he questioned, loth to part from her, yet 
knowing that this tHe-di-tHe would end the in- 
stant they got in sight. 

“No, I am going up stairs. I have not seen 
Mrs. Russell all day, and I wish to sit with her 
until the time for our sail. I shan’t go on the 
gallery. ’ ’ 

“Well let me go through the halls with 
you,’’ he begged, and Janet could not refuse. 
Not far from the entrance she stopped. 

“Now say good-bye, sir, and be off with 
you, or your sister will think I have laid vio- 
lent hands upon you. You haven’t been with 
her this morning.’’ 

“Well, good-bye,’’ said Bob, reluctantly. 

Janet bent down. 

“Shall I give you a parting kiss, dear?’’ and 
she touched his cheek with her lips. 

“Oh, Miss Janet, please do not forget me! I 
shall think of you always,''' he cried, manfully 
choking back the sobs which rose in his throat, 
and then, suddenly overcome by a sense of his 
grief, he turned and rushed back through the 
open door. 

Janet stood a minute irresolute — “always,” 
she repeated sadly, incredulously — “how easy 
it is to say!” And she started to go to her 
room, a door opened near by, and General 
Carson stepped into the hall. The blood rushed 
to her face, but she compelled herself to speak 
carelessly. ‘ ‘ I have just been telling Bob good- 


88 “No. 4o” — A Romance. 

bye ; he leaves on the steamer this after- 
noon.” 

“Yes, I heard. When the transoms are 
open one hears without listening. ’ ’ 

]Sr importe^'' she returned with a curl of 
her lips. ‘ ‘ I hardly imagine that a hall would 
be selected for conversation of a private char- 
acter.” 

He noticed her confusion. “True,” he said 
gravely, “will you not go out on the gallery 
with me? one is more securely alone in the 
crowd than here. ’ ’ 

What did he mean? W'as it a jest? He 
looked serious enough, and his voice sounded 
solemn enough, but a wave of hot resentment 
swept over her. Why did he always appear 
when others were trying to make her forget 
him? No, she would not go upon the gallery. 

‘ ‘ If your proposal was suggested by my re- 
mark, there is no need,” she replied, with a 
mocking smile. “We are not likely to have 
anything to say to one another that our neigh- 
bors may not hear, if they feel inclined to 
listen.” 

He bowed ceremoniously; “I did not intend 
to intimate such a thing. I was foolishly recall- 
ing and acting upon the quotation you repeated 
the other day. ’ ’ 

“I do not remember, which one? ” 

‘ ‘ ‘ Should auld acquaintance be forgot ’ ; you 
mark the application only when it suits you to 
do so.” His words were almost harsh. 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 89 

“I certainly do not see the application at 
present, ’ ’ she returned with more coldness than 
she had ever shown in her life before. 

“Ah, well, I have no right to complain,” he 
said sadly, “you will at least wish me good- 
bye ? ’ ’ 

“Good-bye!” The syllables trembled on 
her lips. 

“I, too, am going on the afternoon boat.” 

She summoned her pride to the rescue — after 
all, what was he to her that his going should 
affect her? She saw the disappointment he felt, 
and it pleased her. 

‘ ‘ I wish you a pleasant trip, ’ ’ she said bravely, 
offering him her hand — it was cold and lifeless. 

He held it one long instant, ‘ ‘ I had hoped to 
have you to myself this last day, but you are in 
such demand,” he said. 

“In ‘such demand’ — yes, thanks to your 
kind attentions!” There was a ring of sharp 
pain in her voice — did he not hear it ? 

‘ ‘ I intended to ask you to take a last stroll on 
the ramparts with me.” 

‘ ‘ And I am engaged to go sailing. ’ ’ 

He released her hand. 

Should she offer to break her engagement and 
walk with him instead ? Before she could frame 
the question some one came down the hall. 

‘ ‘ Good-bye, ’ ’ said the General, ‘ ‘ I trust we 
may meet again,” and echoing the wish she 
turned away. 


CHAPTER IX. 


The afternoon was bright and warm, oppres- 
sively warm for the time of the year, but a good ' 
breeze was stirring, and the sailing-party con- 
gratulated themselves upon the favorable pros- 
pect. ; 

They were a more numerous company than ' 
usually went out, and they had secured the 
largest of the pleasure boats, with several ex- 
perienced sailors to man it. These last cast 
uneasy glances at the bank of cloud which was ' 
looming above the western horizon, and com- 
mented among themselves while getting the 
canvass and ropes in order, but no attention was 
paid to them in the midst of the general merri- { 
ment. 

At length, everything being ready, the party 
embarked, and the boat got out upon the open 
sea. 

The breeze and the white capped-waves made 
the fun of sailing a doubtful pleasure to several 
of the ladies, but the least intimation of fright 
or sea-sickness met with such undisguised 
mockery of sympathy, as to compel the suf- 
ferers to forget their woe. 

Everybody expatiated upon the beauty of the . 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 91 

day, and the delicious warmth which brought 
with it thoughts of Summer and the bathing 
season. The men had wonderful tales to tell 
of adventures upon the sea, and perilous ex- 
ploits among the waves. 

“For gracious sake, stop!” cried a young 
girl, nervously, at the close of a thrilling ac- 
count, “I feel as if a devil-fish had me this 
minute!” 

“ ‘ O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown ! 

What dreadful noise of water in mine ears!’” 

exclaimed her vis-d-vis, in a highly tragic voice, 
whereat a general shout of laughter went up, 
and somebody murmured, “Poor Clarence! I 
wonder if he found drowning easy, though it 
was in a butt of Malmsey.” 

Meanwhile the slender craft, with its light- 
hearted human freight, shot through the waters, 
and nobody cared for the cloud in the West, 
or paused to consider the distance they had 
made. 

The Rip-Raps were left far behind; the 
Hygeia looked like a glittering speck on the 
horizon; the bay steamer had passed out of 
sight, and the line of smoke which floated in 
her wake had faded into viewless air. 

Janet Brown was silent and abstracted at the 
setting out, but the sight of that pendulous col- 
umn of smoke acted upon her like a strong 
stimulant. From that instant she became the 


92 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 


merriest of the crowd, keeping the entire 
party amused by her running fusilade of wit- 
ticisms. 

She had never been so gay or looked so beau- 
tiful. Did any one suspect the secret of the 
gayety ! Did she herself realize that her reck- 
less mirth was the desperate effort her heart was 
making to shake off despair ? 

One of the sailors spoke out at last. “We 
must turn about,” he said, “there is a storm 
brewing over yonder, and it will be as much as 
we can do to keep ahead of it. ’ ’ 

A storm! They looked at the West and 
several cheeks grew pale. 

He who has witnessed a Summer storm at sea 
remembers the startling rapidity with which it 
broke, and the ominous depth of color in the 
water which warned him of its advance. 

Scarcely had the little boat gone a hundred 
yards on her homeward course when the color 
of the sea and sky changed suddenly, and the 
strongest-hearted of the sailing party recog- 
nized the danger that encompassed them. The 
cloud in the West was rolling heavily on, spread- 
ing its lurid wings over the sky, and the wind 
veered from West to North and back again with 
a violence which threatened destruction at every 
fresh gust. It was with difficulty that the sailors 
could keep the boat’s head turned towards the 
Rip- Raps — the point they were steering for — it 
was plainly impossible to keep her afloat in that 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 93 

heavy sea, ^nd unless they could anchor at the 
ruined Fort, there was little to hope for. 

The blackness was terrifying. It seemed as 
if night had dropped down upon them like a 
thick blanket; and the rain, which now fell in 
torrents, added to the peril of the situation. It 
seemed that the vessel must sink in the deluge. 
Gossamers and shawls were of slight avail in 
that blinding downpour. Several ladies swooned, 
and others shrieked with fright, and the men 
found it necessary to keep a firm grasp on their 
companions to prevent them from going over- 
board as the boat mounted the waves and sank 
into them. It seemed an eternity, but in point 
of fact it was not many minutes before the boat’s 
keel grated upon the rocks, and she was made 
secure in a little harbor at the Rip-Raps. Then 
ensued a scramble after a place of refuge; for 
it was not easy to find one’s way about in the 
darkness. However, there was such comfort in 
the touch of the rocks and earth that the excla- 
mations which now rent the air sounded cheer- 
ful and hopeful. 

In the midst of it all, one woman kept quiet, 
prepared for anything that might happen. Not 
a cry had escaped her lips, nor a movement 
of terror endangered her safety while in the 
boat. At the start, she felt rather glad of the 
storm. In her heart such a tempest was raging 
that the stir among the elements was an agree- 
able offset to it. But as the violence of the 


94 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


wind increased, and the darkness settled about 
them, she grew very serious, and her lips set 
firmly. She was not frightened then, but she 
was subdued. There was a reality of power in 
that swift wind, in those leaping waves, in that 
black sky, which made her tremble. 

From the midst of the tumult a voice of Di- 
vine authority spoke to her soul, rebuking her 
pride and setting at naught her defiance. 
“Here shalt thou stay thy swelling waves,” was 
the command which brought her rebellious 
heart into subjection. 

She thought she was dreaming, with open 
eyes. Just then a gust of unprecedented vio- 
lence struck the boat, keeling her on the side, 
and the water poured into her. Screams and 
interjections succeeded. 

A firm hand clasped Janet’s; Hugh Gardner 
bent over her. 

“Are you frightened?” he asked in a low 
voice. 

“Not frightened, but awed,” she whis- 
pered. 

“We will make the Rip -Raps,” he continued 
reassuringly, ‘ ‘ we are not far off now, and this 
is a stout little vessel.” 

. “But the strain is terrible! she cannot stand 
it much longer; and if we do not make the 

Fort ,” she paused. His hand tightened 

upon hers. 

“We will be together, love,” he murmured 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 95 

passionately, ‘ ‘ and death will be sweet if shared 
with thee ! “ 

****** 

It w'as some hours before the rain ceased and 
the wind lulled. Meanwhile the night had 
come on in reality, and the sea was very rough. 
It w'as not far from midnight when the sail- 
ing party reembarked. They could see lights 
moving rapidly on the Point, and as they drew 
near the wharf they head a confused medley of 
sounds. 

“They are preparing to send after us,” said 
one of the gentlemen in the boat, and follow- 
ing his suggestion, the sailors shouted cheerily. 
A cry of thanksgiving burst from the crowd on 
the wharf, as the little boat touched, and the 
party was assisted ashore. 

Janet moved like one in a dream. She was 
dimly conscious of the bustle and talk and 
laughter around her, but what she heard dis- 
tinctly through it all was the voice of her escort 
breathing love into her ear. She listened, but 
she did not answer — she was bereft of speech. 

One of the sailors helped her to steady her- 
self in the rocking boat, and another stood on 
the rough steps to assist her to the wharf As 
she mounted them, a strong hand reached down 
to take hers, and as she stepped upon the wharf 
some one drew her arm in his. She looked up, 
thinking it was Hugh Gardner. 

‘ ‘ What a fright you gave me! ” muttered her 


96 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

companion under his breath. She started back, 
releasing her arm; it was General Carson who 
stood beside her. 

“You here ? ’ ’ she cried, ‘ ‘ I thought you were 
going this afternoon.” His presence was like a 
breath of Summer air to her — for she was cold 
and wet and miserable. 

‘ ‘ I saw the storm approaching and knew that 
you were out, ’ ’ he said simply, drawing her arm 
in his again — this time with an authority she did 
not care to oppose. 

But she hung back; “I must wait for my es- 
cort,” she said. In the happiness of this meet- 
ing she felt a tender pity for the man whose love 
she could not reward. 

“You must not wait for anyone,” the General 
said resolutely, ‘ ‘ you must get out of those wet 
clothes or you will be chilled: besides Mrs. Rus- 
sell is half dead with anxiety about you.” 

Hugh Gardner overtook them now, quite out 
of breath: “I had to take poor old Mrs. Hunt 
into the house — she was fainting.” That ex- 
plained his absence. He showed surprise at 
seeing General Carson there. 

“I thought of leaving to-day, but changed 
my plans,” the General explained briefly. 

jjc 5|C 

Mrs. Russell’s and Chloe’s tender care coun- 
teracted any bad effects that the storm might 
have had upon their young lady. A luxurious 
bath, followed by an hour’s gentle rubbing, 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


97 


which Chloe insisted was necessary to the “res- 
piration of 'health,” and a hot punch, did their 
work in bringing deep sleep to the girl’s tired 
body, and when she waked the following morn- 
ing she was as well and as bright as ever. 

But she pleaded fatigue as an excuse for 
spending the day in her room : she dreaded an- 
other interview with Hugh Gardner, who she 
knew would require an answer to his suit. 
Sooner or later it must be given, but she meant 
to put it off as long as possible. 

But Hugh could not wait — letters reached him 
that very day, requiring his presence at home, 
and he could not leave with out seeing her. 

He begged that she would accord him an in- 
terview, and she could not refuse. 

Why dwell upon it? He pleaded long and 
earnestly, but she put him from her with gentle 
insistency. 

‘ ‘ But you are not engaged to' any one ? ” he 
argued. 

“No,” she was not engaged. 

‘ ‘ And you do not care for any one ? ’ ’ 

A vivid blush overspread her face, but she 
turned her head, that he might not see. 

“Then I shall win you,” he cried confidently; 
“I shall win you by my love and service; fare- 
well, my love;” (how hopefully he uttered it!) 
“in a little while I shall come again, for I will 
not yield you to any man.” 

Janet made an effort to smile, but her heart 
7 


98 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


was heavy — his stubborn hope oppressed her. 
She knew so well that it could not be realized. 

“Good-bye,” she said, a tender look in her 
eyes. ‘ ‘ Come when you wish, and I shall wel- 
come you; but oh, strive to put this love away, 
it cannot be as you wish — indeed, indeed, it 
cannot!” 

He raised her hand to his lips. “Let me 
try,” he said cheerfully; “I am willing to wait 
months — years, if you will — if this may be my 
guerdon. ’ ’ 

Thus they parted. 


CHAPTER X. 


General Carson sent a messenger to inquire 
after Janet’s health, and upon receipt of a note 
from Mrs. Russell assuring him that the storm 
had left no signs of harm upon the young lady, 
took himself off to the Soldiers’ Home, where 
he spent the remainder of the day. 

After Hugh Gardner left, Janet persuaded her 
chaperon to take a turn with her in the lower 
gallery, and during their promenade a number 
of people crowded up to congratulate her upon 
her escape. Each member of the sailing party 
had, it seemed, a different account to give of 
their adventures during the storm, and little 
else was talked of. Janet listened, but said 
little. In her mind the storm itself had dwin- 
dled into insignificance compared with the events 
which followed upon it. 

“You don’t appear to be a bit shaken,” re- 
marked a lady, who was herself a bundle of 
nerves. 

“I don’t believe Miss Brown’s equanimity 
can be disturbed!” — the speaker was a young 
girl who had been one of the most courageous 
of the party in the boat. “She did not utter 
one exclamation during the whole time.” 


loo “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

‘ ‘ Perhaps I was too frightened to cry out, ’ ’ 
said Janet, in explanation of her unfeminine 
conduct. 

“Frightened?” — the girl gave an expressive 
shrug. “You were as composed as a statue! 
Looking at you was the only thing that kept 
me from swooning quite away. I said to myself 
that I just wouldn’t faint so long as you kept 
cool— and I didn’t.” 

‘ ‘ ‘ While the Colosseum stands, Rome shall 
stand,’” quoted Janet, with a little laugh. 
“Permit me to thank you for your compli- 
ment. ’ ’ 

A week had passed since the day of the 
storm, and the crowd at the Hygeia was thin- 
ning rapidly. Mrs. Russell had set the day of 
her own departure, and had gained Janet’s 
consent to accompany her home. She had 
grown so fond of her young friend that she fre- 
quently declared it needed only Janet’s acquies- 
cence to add a member to her household. 

Mrs. Russell’s health had improved and her 
spirits had brightened, and she left her room 
every day now, to stroll on the beach, to Janet’s 
intense delight. General Carson, who for 
reasons best known to himself, delayed his de- 
parture, was continually with them, and added 
much to the enjoyment of both. 

His attentions were directed mainly to the 
elder lady, but a close observer would have had 


i 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. ioi 

no difficulty in locating the star by which he 
steered his course. 

The day of departure came, and Janet having 
finished her packing, and paid a round of fare- 
well visits, went out upon the gallery. 

General Carson joined her immediately. He 
had been on the look-out for her the whole 
morning. 

“If you are going to the rocks, may I not 
go, too?” he questioned with unusual eager- 
ness. 

“I am not going there,” she replied. “I 

wish to remember them as the last place I 

talked to . ’ ’ 

She stopped abruptly — aware that her reason 
was not plainly expressed, yet loth to make it 
clearer. 

He nodded his head. “I understand, they 
are sacred to the memory of Bob. You never 
go over the same ground twice? I am sorry, 
because I intended to ask you to go to the 
Fortress with me.” 

The color deepened in her cheek. 

“I will go with you with pleasure; I do not 
carry my sentimentalism to such lengths as you 
suppose. ’ ’ 

“Come, then, we will cross the rnoat, and 
stroll around the interior.” 

They proceeded some distance in silence; 
Janet spoke first: 

“What a pity I am not younger! I would 


102 “No. 40“ — A Romance. 

so like to hear the secrets that cannon tells!” 
They stood in front of casemate ‘ ^No. 4.0. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Are you so curious ? I will tell you one of 
the gun’s secrets, if you would really care to 
hear. ’ ’ 

He came closer as he said it, and his voice 
sank. 

She dropped upon a stone-rest inside the 
niche, and looked up at him expectantly. 

“It is a sad story, and a bitter,” he added 
after a pause. 

“Of whom is it told?” she inquired, in- 
terested. 

“Of myself, and others.” 

“Ah!” She motioned him to proceed. 

“I have told you that your mother was my 
friend; perhaps you have heard of another 
person for whom she very dearly cared — Ethel 
Gray ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Ethel Gray ! Everybody has heard of her. 
She was the lovliest girl in Virginia, they say, 
and she devoted herself to nursing the poor 
fellows in the hospitals until she died of ex- 
haustion. Many a soldier owed his recovery to 
her. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ She saved my life. ’ ’ 

Janet started in surprise; he put out his hand 
to detain her.” 

“Listen, I will tell you all. The Summer 
preceding the breaking out of the war, Ethel 
Gray visited Old Point under your mother’s 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 


103 


care. Mrs. Brown had several girls under her 
charge, and as they were bright and handsome, 
and she the most charming of chaperons, there 
was no end to the attentions they received. 
But Ethel Gray was the belle par excellence — 
everybody admired her, and half a dozen men 
were crazy about her, I among the rest. I 
was stationed at the Fortress then — a young 
Lieutenant, and I had duties to attend to, but 
they did not interfere with meeting the beau- 
tiful Virginian and freely urging my suit. I 
need not weary you with details. 

“Ethel promised to marry me, but she would 
not consent to have our engagement announced. 
She wished to enjoy the season, she said, and 
the day she left the Point I might proclaimed it; 
but not an hour earlier. What could I do but 
yield to her wish ? I was so proud of having 
won her that I wanted to shout it to the heavens, 
and tell it to everything that had ears upon the 
earth, but her will was my law, and I compelled 
myself to keep silence. 

‘ ‘ I compelled myself also to play the r6le of 
a general beau; for, strange as it may seem, 
this too she desired. 

“There were many pretty girls here that 
summer, but there was not one who could com- 
pare with my fianq'e except Miss Terhune, of 
New York.” 

Janet looked up — Miss Terhune was the lady 
whom he had married. 


104 “No. 40” — A Romance. 

“Miss Terhune had spent the previous Win- 
ter at the Fortress, where her uncle was the 
officer commanding. I had been with her a 
good deal off and on, and she seemed to like 
me. So now that Ethel wished me to avert 
suspicion from our engagement by paying atten- 
tion to others, I naturally turned to my old 
acquaintance. 

“One day I asked her to walk with me. 
Ethel was making a visit at the Fortress, and I 
hoped we might meet her, so I proposed to stroll 
this way. We came to this spot — how well do 
I recall it! — she stood just here, and we talked 
about the tradition connected with this gun. 

‘ ‘ She said it was the favorite trysting-place of 
the officers — as if I did not know it already! — 
but I was in high spirits, and I took my cue. 

“ ‘Imagine me your lover, then,’ I said jest- 
ingly, ‘ and believe me when I swear that I love 
you above all women.’ 

“ ‘Are you quite sure that you will not find 
yourself mistaken ? ’ she questioned mockingly, 
but her dark eyes flashed with a light I had 
never seen in them before. 

“ ‘I swear that I love you,’ I repeated — this 
time solemnly, and I took her hand in mine — 
‘that I shall love you always, come weal or 
woe.’’ A shadow darkened the casemate as 
I uttered the oath. My back was to the 
archway, and I turned quickly to see what 
had cast it. ‘Somebody passed,’ said Miss 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 105 

Terhune carelessly, and we thought no more 
about it. 

‘ ‘ After our farce ended we returned to the ho- 
tel. I did not meet my Jiang'e^ and that evening 
I was detained at the Fortress. The following 
morning your mother sent me a note, enclosing 
one from Ethel. It contained but three lines, 
telling me that she was about to leave for home, 
and bidding me farewell. At first I was indig- 
nant at such treatment from her, then a dread 
of losing her overcame me — for an hour I was 
powerless to act ; but when I sought your 
mother to learn the reason of Ethel’s sudden 
departure, she could tell me nothing. Ethel 
had announced her desire to return home with- 
out delay, and in spite of remonstrances and 
regrets, had carried out her wish. 

‘ ‘ ‘ She seemed so nervous, ’ your mother 
added, ‘and the change in her plans was so 
unexpected that I feared there was something 
that she did not care to speak of hurrying her 
off; but she calmed my anxiety with the assu- 
rance that it was only fatigue — fatigue of body 
which made her go. The life at Old Point 
was too great a strain upon her, and she needed 
rest — so I could not urge her to remain.’ 

“Well, it was impossible for me to follow her 
— my duties here were imperative — so I wrote 
an imploring letter to know the reason of her 
strange treatment. * * * * * 

Days passed before I had a reply, and when 


io6 “No. 40” — A Romance. 

it came it explained nothing, but told me that 
she was about to leave home to visit friends at 
a distance, and did not mention where. It was 
my conge — I was not too blind to recognize the 
fact. 

“I was maddened by her cruelty and hu- 
miliated by her coolness. I swore that I would 
forget her, and right nobly did I strive to keep 
the oath. The autumn following. Miss Terhune 
visited at the Fortress again, and I devoted my- 
self to her. She was lovely and attractive, and 
she cared for me — the old love was dead in my 
heart, as I believed, and I liked her sincerely. 
I asked her to be my wife. When she left 
Old Point our engagement was known. One 
day happening to be in New York, I met your 
mother at the house of a mutual friend. She 
told me of the efforts she had made to bring 
Ethel and myself together — and how she had 
at last succeeded in making Ethel explain the 
cause of her strange conduct. Can you not 
guess what it was ? 

''She had passed by the casemate while I 
was making pretended love to Miss Terhune, 
and it was shadow which fell across our feet! 
‘But it will yet be right,’ said your mother, 
cheerfully; ‘only seek her, and tell how it was. 
She loves you still: she has never stopped 
loving you.’ Alas! it was too late! I had 
been married a week. I shall not tell you of 
my sufferings and despair, and how I struggled 


“No. 40” — A Romance. 107 

to hide my sorrow — to put it away from me, for 
my wife’s sake, who was so tender and consid- 
erate. She loved me so truly that she would 
have forgiven me everything; but to know that 
another woman was the idol I worshipped, 
would have broken her heart. 

“Fortunately for us both, war was declared 
and I had to take the field. I never saw my wife 
again after the sad hour of my quitting home, 
when she wept upon my breast, pleading to fol- 
low me. That could not be — poor child. I 
little dreamed that she,, and not I, would be the 
one to perish so soon. She was so gay and 
spirited and enjoyed life so intensely. 

“Two years after her death I was taken a pris- 
oner to Richmond, desperately wounded, and 
as I was then an officer of rank, every possible 
attention was shown me. I was carried to a 
hospital, and carefully watched over. For days 
I was delirious; my life hung in the balance. 
Then my constitution triumphed — the fever left 
me, and my wound began to heal. 

“Exhausted as I was, I recognized the fact 
that my nurse was a gentlewoman. Other 
wounded men lay on cots about me, some 
writhing in agony, some moaning in their sleep, 
and to each one that tender nurse seemed to 
bring peace and rest from suffering. 

‘ ‘ The doctors came and went, but she was 
never absent — or so it seemed to me. Now 
over one cot, now over another, she bent to 


io8 “No. 40 “ — A Romance. 

smooth a pillow, or lift an aching head, or to 
administer medicine and stimulants. It was too 
dark in my section of the hall for me to discern 
her features, but her very presence was a sooth- 
ing potion, and her hands had a touch of magic 
in them. 

“She moved like a spirit, noiseless and swift, 
but, ah — those slender white hands ! they were a 
woman’s! 

‘ ‘ There dwelt with me a curious impression 
that I had known her before. She seldom 
spoke, and I heard so faintly in my weakness 
that I could not recognize the voice; but I 
longed to see in a clearer light the face which, 
strangely enough, since I returned to my right 
senses, approached me only in the shadows of 
twilight and dawn. 

‘ ‘ At last the light fell upon her * * * and 
upon my heart. 

‘ ‘ It was Ethel Gray who had nursed me in 
my delirium, and was now winning me back to 
life! 

‘ ‘ I could have kissed her feet in my contri- 
tion! And all I could do was to catch one of 
the slender white hands and beg her forgiveness. 
Do you wander that I grew well and strong? 
The doctors marveled at my rapid recovery; 
they did not guess the secret; but my gentle 
nurse knew how my blood was bounding in my 
veins, and how my happiness was doing more 
for me than all their tonics! 


“No. 4o” — A Romance. 109 

‘ ‘ But, ah ! the day of fresh separation dawned. 

I was exchanged, and had to report again to the 
Federal army. I had told Ethel all, and had 
won her pardon, but I wanted more — I wanted 
her promise to become rny wife. She would 
not hear of it. 

“ ‘ I was her enemy, ’ she said, and though she 
smiled as she said it, it was like the cut of a 
sharp sword. I would have suffered any pain 
for her — I would have died for her — and I was 
her enemy, fighting against her kinsmen on 
bloody battlefields! 

‘ ‘ But after the strife is ended, ’ I pleaded — I 
meant, with God’s help, to atone for the sor- 
row I had caused her. 

‘ ‘ Our parting was as the bitterness of death — 
I knew then that she loved me, and I believed 
that life held nothing in reserve that could ex- 
ceed the agony of that hour. Alas I I had not 
drained the goblet I there yet remained the 
crowning sorrow — ere a short half year had 
fled I knew what it was to be left desolated 

He turned away, overcome with emotion. 

Janet started up, shivering as if a cold wind 
had struck her. 

“Come!” she cried imploringly, “let us go 
away from here!” She could not breathe any 
longer in the casemate. He followed her with- 
out a word. When they reached the top of the 
ramparts, she sank down with a tremulous 
sigh. 


no “No. 40”— A Romance. 

A cloud passed across the sun; the air was 
chilling. 

He stood a little way off, his eyes fixed upon 
her, but she did not heed — her own rested on 
the beach, where the tide was coming in. 

‘ ^Et la mer montait toujours^ ’ ’ she murmured. 
So had her love for this man — it had risen 
higher and higher, until now it threatened to 
engulf her life — and he — had he not said that 
his heart was buried in the grave with Ethel 
Gray? 

Presently he came and dropped beside her. 
“I have told you one of the cannon’s secrets,’’ 
he said gently; “may I tell you now another?” 

She could not trust herself to answer, but she 
lifted her eyes to his; they were dim with tears. 

“ ‘No. 40’ pursues me with the steady tread 
of fate,” he continued, and his voice shook 
slightly. “It was there that I first saw 

He waited, but she did not speak. 

“Once it destroyed my happiness; now it 
threatens to destroy my peace.” 

What he meant was unmistakable. A great 
wave of happiness rushed over her, but she 
fought it bravely. Was she dreaming that he 
cared for her after what he had told her ? 

She shut her eyes to keep back the tears. 

“Is it folly, then, to love you as I do?” 

Why could she not utter one word of re- 
assurance? Had joy struck her dumb? Her 
silence hurt him. 


Ill 


“No. 40“ — A Romance. 

“ Forgive me,” he murmured, “I have wea- 
ried you!” 

Ah, no! Slowly she leaned towards him, 
until her head touched his breast. Slowly one 
little hand crept around his neck and stayed. 

He touched her hair with his lips : 

“My beautiful one! You pity me?” 

She looked up at him then. Was it pity 
that shone upon him through those tears ? He 
feared to deceive himself 

“I will not ask for your love — not now, 
Janet, but some day I shall win it. Only let 
me love and serve you, and life will be sweeter 
than I ever dreamed it could be,’ ’ 

She lifted her head. “Are you sure,” she 
asked archly, “that that will content you? 
That you do not wish me to love you a little 
bitf' 

What could he do but fold her closely to 
him, and kiss the saucy lips which teased him ? 

“A little bit, my darling? No, that will not 
satisfy me now.” 

How beautiful the earth appeared to them 
then! How soft the air! How blue the sky! 
The little cloud had passed away, and the sun 
shone brightly again. 

Was it the sun alone which shed its glory 
upon them ? 

Nay, was it not rather that light 


Which never was on sea or land.' 


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